


i'm an animal (you're an animal)

by pocketfullofdaisies



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: 404 Ben Solo Not Found, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Office, American Psycho vibes, And she needs to read between the lines, Attempting some Dark Comedy, Bad sex etiquette, Ben Solo is Not Nice, Ben has a thing for bridal carry, Ben is 30 Rey is 19, Bodice Ripper vibes, But bad boys bring heaven to you, But since there is murder cases, But you should never trust strange men, Chp5 has sexual coercion and elements of non-con, Come for the porn but stay for the creepy suspense feels, Consensual Drunk and Drugged Sex, DARK with NO side of fluffy, Daddy Dom Little Girl undertones, Dark Ben Solo, Dark Kylo Ren, Dark Reylo, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Devoted Rey, Did I mention the sex gets pretty rough?, Dirty Talk, Dodgy influence of Powerful Families, Dominant Ben Solo, Dominant Kylo Ren, Don't ever take sides against the family, Emotional Manipulation, Evidently there is some mental health issues, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Extremely Dubious Consent, F/M, First Time, Gaslighting, He brings out the worst in her, He can make bad things happen to people who are mean to him, He can't get enough of her, He gets rude and offensive during sex, He tends to leer at her lol, Intense Sex, It's heaven on his terms though, It's just generally a little filthy, Jealousy, Just red flags everywhere 🚩, Just so many types of sex lol, Kinda comes off as creepy and predatory, Kylo Ren is Not Nice, Light Bondage, Light Spanking, Loss of Virginity, Lots of drinking and recreational drug usage, Minor Daddy and Baby Girl kink, Naked Female Clothed Male, No actual violent scene, No matter how hot, No redemption sweetie, Non-con photo tokens, Not all villains look like monsters, Obsessive Ben Solo, Obsessive Kylo Ren, Older Man/Younger Woman, Or a girl who falls in love with a villain, Porn With Plot, Possessive Ben Solo, Possessive Kylo Ren, Possessive Sex, Power Imbalance, Praise Kink, Quote one of my readers that Rey's thought process is "Hmm that's kinda scary but oh well", REMINDER that this is a villain's story, References to Sexual Assault through victims, Rough Sex, Secret Relationship, Sexual Experimentation, Shy curious and pretty chilled Rey ✌️, Some verbal abuse can happen, THE RISE OF THE VILLAIN, Tension Suspense Thriller, There will be TOTAL MENTAL AND PHYSICAL CONTROL, There will be a moment of slapping and biting, They bang WAY too much, This ends in a dark place 🚫, Unhealthy toxic romance, Unprotected Sex, Unsafe Sex, Upcoming Ben POV chapter will have thoughts of RAGE VIOLENCE CANNIBALISM and NECROPHILIA, VERY dark and miserable childhood, Villain Fucking, Villain meets Girl, Virgin Rey (Star Wars), Welcome to pure trashy trash hell, What if I'm not the hero?, What if I'm the bad guy?, Who defines HEA in Dark Reylo anyway?, Yes good boys go to heaven, Yes he is quite possibly a serial killer, Yes this means the bad guys win, Zero Slow Burn, good girl kink, it started out with a kiss how did it end up like this, mostly just smut really, nothing is more important than family
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-02
Updated: 2020-12-07
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:22:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 23,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26760586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pocketfullofdaisies/pseuds/pocketfullofdaisies
Summary: Like everyone else, she notices him—tall, mysterious and terribly suave, he’s that Mr Big Shot that sits a couple of floors up, handling the most elite corporate clients. But why did he just ask her out? He doesn’t even know her.“I’d like to get to know you, Rey,” he had told her.Maybe she’s a little afraid of him, but she can’t help but want to know Ben Solo too.A modern AU about a serial killer who falls in love with the sweet personal-assistant-next-door. This is a story of villain meets girl.ORRey’s relationship with the Skywalker heir has dangerous consequences and Ben is writing a memoir titled "Serial Killer 101: How to tell the love of your life about your evil hobbies and STILL keep the girl."
Relationships: Kylo Ren & Rey, Kylo Ren/Rey, Kylo Ren/Rey/Ben Solo, Rey & Ben Solo, Rey & Ben Solo | Kylo Ren, Rey/Ben Solo, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren, Rey/Kylo Ren/Ben Solo
Comments: 250
Kudos: 495





	1. With a taste of your lips, I’m on a ride

**Author's Note:**

  * For [amybeegood](https://archiveofourown.org/users/amybeegood/gifts), [fear_of_being_bitten](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fear_of_being_bitten/gifts), [The ReylOlds](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=The+ReylOlds).



> **HAPPY HALLOWEEN MONTH!** 🦇 🎃
> 
> This is inspired by American Psycho (2000) and Extremely Wicked, Shockingly Evil and Vile (2019) so you should KNOW what kinda vibe this is gonna be. There will be easter eggs to certain scenes in the films. This is obviously some ridiculously horrific expansion of Patrick Bateman’s relationship with his secretary Jean which will be sexualised for this fic. 
> 
> **WARNINGS (READ THE TAGS AND THIS!!!)**  
>  This is possibly the filthiest and most out-of-character behaviours I’ve written for these two space kids with dark comedy/satirical references where no one ever suspects men with a certain skin type who are well-dressed, eloquent and wealthy. Usually, I’d say my work is dark-ish with a side of fluffy and some potential for redemption, but this won’t have the “adequate” type of fluff and there will be **NO REDEMPTION** 🔥 Because it’s spooky month, this has disturbing themes and just all around messed-up and creepy lol. The rape/straight-up non-con sexual violence will just be a trigger as topic/mention in passing/implied through the victims. **IF you do not like the idea of Ben/Kylo being an unapologetic villain (who has the potential to be nasty and vile), this is probably not the fic for you.**
> 
> If you’re still not sure, please feel free to DM me on [Twitter](http://twitter.com/pocketsofdaisy). Always, always, always take care of yourself first, be safe and enjoy you little evil ones 🖤
> 
> Title of the fic: [Animal by MISSIO](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=61MlOnjXqas)  
> Moodie done by the sweet & brilliant: [@EmilyFiction](http://twitter.com/EmilyFiction)
> 
> \---
> 
> Sources:  
> [Amilyn Holdo](http://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Amilyn_Holdo)  
> [Hosnian Prime](http://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Hosnian_Prime)  
> [Dorsia](http://www.gq-magazine.co.uk/article/gq-food-dorsia-restaurant-bar-american-psycho-london) (La Ristorante Takodana’s inspiration aka the restaurant that nobody but Paul Allen can get a damn reservation at)

* * *

It's on today’s front page again. The top trending article in the social feeds.

> **MISSING FEMALE FOUND AFTER NINE WEEKS OF SEARCH**

Another victim located; her unclothed body fished out from a river as wide as the Hudson with no murder weapon, no fingerprints and no witnesses. The cops announce that they have the best task force working to track down this animal.

That’s what they said when the first girl was uncovered.

And here they are, almost thirty bodies later with no substantial leads.

They are convinced it’s the same guy. A highly elusive serial killer that lures his targets in before assaulting them and leaving them for dead. The cause of death varies from strangulation to a gruesome head wound from what they _believe_ could potentially be from nails. All the victims appear to have traces of drugs in their blood and significant ligature marks on their hands and feet—as if they were bounded for some time.

He appears to have a type; blondes.

And he seems to like them young too. _Real_ young.

“Maybe the killer’s a female,” a deep, silky tone catches her attention. “Shouldn’t be sexist in this day and age, don’t you think?” 

Rey Ridley, substitute personal assistant to Amilyn Holdo, the Country Head of the Private Wealth Management division looks up from her phone. Her heart skips a beat, because there he is _again_ , leaning over her desk as if they have a close affiliation. As if they already had some kind of rapport with each other.

Benjamin Organa-Skywalker Solo smiles at her. “How you doing?” 

_God, he’s fucking sexy_ , she thinks.

“Hello, Mister Solo,” she sheepishly returns a beam. “I’m fine, thank you. Amilyn’s not in right now. Anything I can help you with? Or you could leave a message, and I’ll let her know on your behalf?”

As Ben handles the most exclusive corporate clients for the Hosnian Prime Banking Group, he often visits Amilyn to recommend referrals of potential new private wealth customers from his networking with CEOs and executive level individuals among his clientele. Not to mention she’s also heard office gossips about his well-connected Organa-Skywalker family that owns one of the biggest conglomerates in the world, so he’s quite a big fish around here. Rumour has it that working with Hosnian Prime is just a casual pastime for him until he takes the reins of his family’s empire.

He clicks his tongue. “Huh. That’s fine then. I’ll drop her an email.”

Rey nods. “Sure thing.”

“You look nice today,” and he studies her with a wolfish glint.

“Oh, um…” She curiously eyes her bargain corner blouse and hand-me down pencil skirt from her roommate. “Thank you?”

“Got a date later?”

“Nah,” she shakes her head.

He gives a playful pout. “That’s a shame. Your man not giving you the attention you deserve?”

Her face heats up. _What’s he trying to do?_

“Sure, _if_ I had a man.”

“Oh really? I didn’t know you’re single.” Something strange crosses his features. “That’s interesting.”

“How is my non-existent love life interesting?” she rolls her eyes.

“Lucky for me then.”

Rey stares at him, unsure if she’s heard him correctly. “What do you mean?”

He props himself _so_ close to her that she could count his beauty marks across his face, noticing how plush his pretty mouth is and admire the perfectly set waves of his obsidian hair. She adores the colour of his deep-set eyes; a heady mix of deep amber and honey whisky.

“I’d like to take you out to dinner tomorrow.”

 _What?_ Her pulse instantly soars. “Dinner?”

“Yes. Ever been to La Takodana? They have amazing fusion dishes and make some pretty mean cocktails too.”

La Ristorante Takodana? No fucking way. She can barely get a reservation for Amilyn and her husband for months now. He must be fucking joking if he’s just casually offering to take her to the most sought-after restaurants in the city within the next twenty-four hours. Or maybe he’s planning on taking her for dinner sometime _next_ year? She’s heard stories about him being quite a stickler for planning things _way_ in advance…

She giggles nervously before saying, “Now I _definitely_ know you’re kidding. You can’t just get—”

“I can.”

He’s still smiling, his heavy gaze rivet her to the seat and she realises he’s waiting for an answer. Somehow, she gets the feeling he’s not going to leave until she says yes.

“Who’d you have to kill to skip the queue?” she snorts.

He gives her a huge, striking grin. “Oh, you have _no_ idea.”

Honestly, she doesn’t understand why he’s asking her out. They run in different social circles, she’s pretty much a nobody from nowhere and—wait, doesn’t he have _enough_ girls to hang around with? Plus, she’s heard that he has a penchant for beautiful supermodels and other elegant heiresses.

Since joining the company almost six months ago, she’s only seen him a couple of times. The first few instances, he doesn’t notice her, going straight into Amilyn’s room and then back out to the elevator once he’s done. It’s only after the eighth meet that he finally _looks_ at her, stopping by her desk to introduce himself. It soon turned into an exhilarating ritual where he makes a point to always exchange a few flirtatious remarks with her—all seemingly harmless, and she won’t deny she enjoys his attentions too. 

Today is their twelfth encounter.

“But…” she tries to string her words carefully, “Why are…? Why would you…?”

“Too sudden?”

She nods quietly, still a little shy and bewildered to figure out what the hell was really going on.

“I’d like to get to know you, Rey. Been wanting to take you out somewhere nice so we can spend some time together.”

This must be a dream.

 _Yes_ —

Some beautiful, crazy and otherworldly fantasy where someone like him tells someone like her that he’s thought about _her_ for some time now. She’s not sure how Amilyn would feel about her assistant dating Ben Solo though…

This is fucking insane.

He’s fucking insane.

Or maybe it’s just her?

“So?” and he’s practically crooning, “Come on. It’ll be fun. I can be the perfect gentleman.”

“This isn’t some stupid bet you made with your big boys club to see if I’ll say yes?”

He looks _genuinely_ disgusted by her comment. “I’m not some caveman, y’know. My mind is _far_ more advanced to waste on such dull pastimes.”

While she knows that to be true because she’s heard others on the floor talk about Ben as some boy genius with an outrageous IQ, there’s still a bubbling sense of trepidation building in her. Every cell in her body tells her that this guy is a no-go, to be smart about it and stay the fuck away—

So, why can’t she?

“Okay…” she nods slowly. “Tomorrow’s good.”

And when his lips curl, it twists something incredibly hot and inappropriate inside her and instinctively she presses her thighs together. Shit, she’s getting wet just from _looking_ at him.

“It’s a Saturday, right? Let’s say reservation’s at seven, so I’ll pick you up on the way. Where do you stay?”

Her skin prickles. She’s not sure if she’s ready to let the Tico sisters to see this guy roll up in his ridiculous Bentley to their dingy neighbourhood where they rent a three-bedroom apartment. She’s seen Amilyn return from a client lunch with Ben a few times and she’s briefly mentioned about his taste for luxury cars.

“I—well, is it okay if I meet you there instead?”

“You sure?”

“Uh-huh. I might have to do a few things before, so I think that works out better.”

“As you wish." He whips out his cell. “What’s your number?”

“Oh, that’s okay. I’m sure you have to hurry off now. I can get your number from Amilyn’s records and drop you a text later?”

His eyes darken. “I don’t use my work phone for personal matters.”

“You have a second phone?”

He only smiles and something kicks Rey in the gut again, but she can’t help herself, almost as if there’s something else guiding her movements as they exchange numbers.

“Perfect,” and he licks his lips. “Look forward to seeing you, Rey.”

“Ah, yes. Looking forward to it as well, Mister Solo.”

Just as he starts to leave, he looks over his shoulder. “You better start getting used to calling me _Ben_.”

After he steps into the elevator, she goes red when he turns around and catches her still gazing at him, and she wants to dive below her desk when he winks while giving her a little wave, an uncanny wiggle of his fingers where she’s reminded of those amusement park clowns beckoning at kids to come over for a balloon. When the doors shut, taking him to his floor, Rey rushes straight into to her messaging app.

 _F-F-F-F-FU-FUC-FUCK!_ she hears her mind shriek.

She scrambles to change her ludicrous profile photo of a shaggy dog eating a hamburger while the tiny kitten beside drinks a milkshake. She flips through her gallery so fast, she’s almost dizzy by the time she selects another shot; a group picture with the Tico sisters and her going hiking about a month ago. Safe, subtle and not screaming for attention. 

She blasts out a text to Rose immediately after—

* * *

Saturday comes too soon.

The weather has reached the chillier levels of late autumn, so Rey tears apart her entire closet, searching for something warm, but cute to wear. She has a decent looking long-sleeved chiffon dress that falls below her knees which she can pair with one of her taupe pumps. She decides to beg Paige to use her woollen fawn trench coat for tonight’s dinner.

“Just bring it back exactly as it is, honey,” Paige shakes her head. “You’re looking pretty. Hot date?”

“I…I guess you could say so?”

“Right. Should I put the chain on the door, or you’re still coming home tonight?”

Rey’s cheeks bloom a gorgeous crimson. “What’s that supposed to mean? Of course I’m coming back!”

“Just checking. I’ve never seen you so dressed up before, so I assumed it’s someone special.”

Rey wrinkles her nose before taking out her cell to order an Uber.

* * *

The restaurant is exceedingly nice, the kind that’s really posh with a subtle hint of homey interior. She’s still amazed at how he’s managed to get a booking in less than a day to this place. Guess it really _does_ pay to be extremely well-known with a shit ton of money.

He’s handsome as ever, dressed in a black Oxford shirt, an equally dark trousers and a grey woollen coat. 

And he really _is_ a gentleman. He holds the doors open for her, helps to take her coat and pulls out her chair. He doesn’t laugh when she frowns at the absurdly pretentious menu. He doesn’t look smug when the server baffles her with a long list of wine. He doesn’t scoff when she doesn’t know the difference between an antipasti and an amuse-bouche.

“Hey, how old are you?” Ben finally asks during dessert.

Rey freezes, the spoon holding her sorbet stopping in mid-air. She’s fully aware he’s literally ten years her senior because she’s looked up his profile numerous of times in presentation materials she’s printed for Amilyn’s client appointments.

Is he having a sudden panic that she might be _too_ young for him?

“I’m turning twenty in a couple of months.”

“So, you’re basically still a _teenager_?” He seems deeply amused. “Good thing we didn’t order wine. Guess we’ll take a raincheck on having cocktails after this.”

She laughs. “It sounds awful when you put it that way.” She lowers her voice. “I’ve obviously drunk before though.”

“Haven’t we all?” he grins. “I’m a pretty good at mixing drinks myself. Maybe we can head to my place after, if you’d like?”

There are distant alarm bells going off in Rey’s head again. She taps her fingers on her thighs, nibbling on her lip as she weighs out her decision. She barely knows him, but maybe he’s just looking for some company tonight. He probably wouldn’t try anything on her, especially when they work in the same office and he’s obviously got a reputation to uphold.

And she didn’t meet him some dubious dating app, so he’s not _really_ some random stranger…

Is he?

“No pressure, Rey. See how you feel after this.”

“You mean, in case this dinner ends badly and we never wanna see each other again?” she teases.

“I highly doubt that.” He tilts his head, studying her. “So—how did such a sweet, young thing like yourself end up working for us? You’re _much_ younger than the last one Amilyn brought in.”

“Well…" and she almost sighs. “This job isn’t fixed for the moment. Amilyn’s last assistant is on maternity leave for a year, so I’m just temping until she comes back.”

“Ah, so you were referred in by an agency?”

“Uh-huh. Didn’t have the financial support for college, so I did this course for executive secretarial roles for a couple of months. Was unemployed for a while before I got this placement with Amilyn.” Rey shrugs before saying, “She was a little concerned about my age, but I think she hired me because she felt sorry for me. She’s very _motherly_ that way.”

“She is,” Ben nods languidly. “What about your parents? No other family?”

“No. I grew up in the foster system.” And Rey wasn’t keen to say any more than that.

“Staying alone then?”

“I have roommates. Some girlfriends I’ve made over the years since high school. Rose is gonna apply for medical school… _obviously_. Her older sister Paige mostly manages the rent and I just supplement where I can.”

He notices her quietly picking at the table cloth. “Your job’s nothing to be ashamed about. And having a family isn’t all that great.”

“That’s a dumb thing to say,” she snaps before she can help herself. “Only those who don’t’ know what it’s like to lose something will say shit like that.”

His lips twitch with a tinge of mirth. “My apologies, I do believe I’ve offended you.”

She pauses. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to take it out on you. I just—”

“That’s fine,” and he leans back in the chair, his broad-shouldered arms folds across his magnificent chest. “No one was really around while I was growing up, so I guess they made up for their absence up by giving me whatever I wanted. Although, I suppose they took care of me in their own way. Cleaning up my mess and any fucked-up shit I did.”

“You? Causing trouble?” Rey shakes her head. “Can’t imagine. You’re like Prince Charming at work. I think every girl in our building is crazy about you.”

Ben lets out a bitter chuckle. “I wasn’t an easy child to deal with. Created a lot of problems for my parents in boarding school. I was also too tall. Too odd looking. And girls didn’t pay attention to me back then.” He gives her a dark smile. “Even now, I don’t think I’ve gotten any easier to manage.”

She clumsily chortles at his absurd statement, finishing the last scoop of sorbet into her mouth. _Rich kid problems,_ she almost snickers.

Ben was right. The food is absolutely delicious, and while she isn’t a fussy eater, she has an adequate amount of appreciation for the efforts placed into embellishing fine-dining dishes to dupe customers into paying more than its actual worth. She wonders if it’d be smart to make a passing comment to Amilyn about how this restaurant actually lives up to the hype. But then she’d have to explain how she succeeded to get a table…

 _Bad idea_ , she thinks. _Just keep your mouth shut_.

“You’re stunning by the way,” his voice cuts through her thoughts. “Like really beautiful.” 

“Oh—” Rey’s hand naturally reaches for her nape, rubbing it awkwardly to ease her goosebumps. “Thank you. You’re not so bad yourself, Mister S—”

“Uh-uh,” he shakes his head. “What did I say yesterday?”

Her face flushes immediately. “Thank you, _Ben_.”

She thinks she might have imagined it, but his palm suddenly grips the armrest of his chair. His eyes narrow as he lifts the other hand to brush his thumb along his lower lip, clearly musing on something as he gives her a long, appraising look. 

“What?” she blinks in surprise. “Do I have something on my face?” and she reaches into her purse to pull out a pocket mirror to check. _Ah fuck_ , she thinks as she notices splotches of dried pasta sauce at the corner of her mouth, already crusty. She winces as she pulls out a facial wipe to dab the stain away, feeling absolutely mortified. _He must think you’re some kind of bottomless dumpster_ , she grimaces—

But when she looks back up, he’s in the same position, still ominously staring.

“Ben? Are you okay?”

He seems to jolt awake from the daze. “Sorry. Let’s get the check.”

***

There’s a short silence between them after they get into his chauffeur-driven Bentley, travelling through the city as she marvels at the beautiful lights that illuminate the skyline. She’s also wondering what the fuck she’s hoping to achieve, going for ridiculously fancy dinners, sitting in an equally fancy car and going for a drive with Ben Solo.

 _You’re in way over your head_ , Rey tells herself. _And you’re gonna wake up from this dream falling hard on your fucking ass_. It’s an internal struggle for her, because she wonders why can’t she have nice things in life too? Just a small taste, even if it won’t last.

Even if it isn’t real.

“Rey—” his voice calls to her.

“Hmm?” she hums as she turns to look at him—

But her eyelids flutter close when he draws her into a kiss, his lips gentle against hers, one hand weaving into her hair while the other pulls at her waist to drag her closer. His tongue nudges against the seam of her lips before she lets him in, caressing the inside of her mouth until she feels something warm coil inside her. Throughout the kiss, he runs a hand up and down her back, occasionally giving her hip a squeeze.

 _Oof_ , she thinks. _You really know how to kiss a girl, don’t you?_

He tastes ridiculously good, not to mention the smell that comes off him is incredibly musky and masculine. He’s got all the qualities to be a world-class predator, luring in whoever he wants with such ease. And Rey is just the oblivious game, chasing the sweet treat he dangles before her. When he finally breaks the kiss, she’s breathless and flushed.

His eyes search her face for a moment before murmuring, “Do you mind if I book us into a hotel instead?”

She feels the throbbing of her pulse in her ears. “W-What? Aren’t we going to have drinks at your—”

“If you come home with me, I’ll never let you leave.”

Rey is completely stunned by how those words both frighten and arouse her. _What the hell?_ She isn’t normally like this. Making out on the first date, letting someone she hardly knows touch her so sensually and now finding herself being on the verge to let him fuck her in some hotel room. He clearly isn’t a man who wastes time in holding back from what he wants, and she’s not unwitting enough to pretend she doesn’t know what he’s looking for.

She doesn’t usually get flustered by boys easily, and _yet_ —

 _But he’s not a boy, is he?_ the little voice in her head sneers. _He’s a real man._

Maybe she’s been a little lonely too, hardly finding anyone she gets an instant connection with, let alone an attraction.

He leans in to trail kisses along the slope of her neck and she realises he’s waiting for her answer again. Every fibre in her body wants _this_ —to just say yes and let them have one night together and they can go back to being strangers in office. That’s what he probably wants, isn’t it? She’s not really looking for anything either and it’s been such a wild trip just to be here with him. He’s been sweet to her like he promised too—

But would he still want to bang if he knew she’s a virgin?

“I’m waiting…” he says.

The way his lips brush across her skin, she’s been drained off every rational thought. Was she saving to have her first time with someone special? Most likely, but she supposes life’s a little unpredictable at times. She can’t deny that while he may _not_ be the significant other right now, he’ll unquestionably know what to do so there won’t be any awkward first moments or weird fumbling in the dark.

And it’s Ben fucking Solo, really. She could do a lot worse.

She sighs—

“Okay,” and she presses a soft kiss to his mouth. “Let’s get a room.”

* * *

You know, you know me  
I like to be intoxicated  
You know, you know me  
And feel unappreciated  
You know, you know me  
I like to be adulterated  
You know, you know me

**—Excerpt from "Animal" by MISSIO**


	2. I draw the line and cross it first

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooooo…for those reading [sweet dreams (are made of this)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25013197/chapters/60568549), this is basically a darker, fucked-up alternate reality injected with freaking loads of serotonin and ZERO slow-building tension. Only filth here, so I'm warming myself up to write intense smut for my other fics. The heart wants what it wants okay???
> 
>  **WARNINGS:** Please see the tags for the warnings my darlings, but I'll just repeat there’s some rude/offensive comments, alcohol, recreational drugs, pretty rough sex, very descriptive emotional smut for her ‘First Time’ and ‘Loss of Virginity’, because this is obviously just trash. PURE, UNADULTERATED GARBAGE! 🖤

The hotel Ben brings Rey to is unsurprisingly lavish and classy, situated uptown together with exclusive retails and eateries. She watches him approach the front desk, exchange a few words with the receptionist who smiles and hands him a key card within minutes. He takes her hand in his and leads her to the elevators.

“Don’t you need to check-in or give any ID?” she asks.

“Nope. They know who I am.”

 _Jesus, is he a regular here?_ she wonders.

When the doors close, he circles an arm around her waist again, holding her close while he breathes into her hair, “You have such a wonderful scent.” His finger trace small circles on her lower back. “Just can’t wait to be inside you.”

She knows she’s pink all the way from her forehead down to her tummy, because that’s just the way her skin always flushes since she was a kid.

“Umm, Ben?”

“Hmm?”

“I need to tell you something. I’m actually a v—”

_Ding!_

“God, I fucking love the way you say my name,” he groans, stepping out as the elevator doors swish open. “Think I can just come from hearing you say it.”

Something exhilarating shoots up her spine from his directness as she follows him. He's pretty fucking shameless about what he needs. Then, she notices there’s only _one_ room at the end of the hallway on the highest floor they’ve arrived to. Ben taps the card on entrance and pushes the doors open into a colossal three-bedroom presidential suite.

Rey freezes on the spot. _Huh, what’s going on?_

“Aww, Rey…” He gently tugs her along. “My family uses this place for throwing an occasional dinner party or two, so I’ve access to it whenever I want. That’s all. Nothing to be scared about.”

After shrugging off his coat and hanging it up by the foyer, he kisses her again as he helps her out of hers. She feels a little annoyed, because she felt so much braver back in his car, but now she’s finding herself shaking like a leaf under his attentions when he presses her against his chest.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart? Still nervous?”

“A little…” she admits.

“Why? I’m not gonna hurt you,” and he nips at her earlobe. “Well, not in a way you _wouldn’t_ enjoy.” 

“N-no—” she stutters from his lewd words. “I mean—I just think I should tell you something before we go any further.”

“What?” He lifts his head to peer down at her. “What is it?”

“Imma…” and she swallows. “I haven’t had sex before. I’m still a virgin.”

Immediately, his grip tightens as he stares at her, his gaze burning right into hers. She braces herself for him to back away. Maybe even telling her this is a mistake or he’s really _not_ into virgins, though she doesn’t think she can hide this when it’ll be too obvious how sexually inexperienced she actually is—

But the silence is becoming _too_ long, his eyes locked on hers. She feels a little weirded out by his unmoving state, breaking their eye-contact by blinking, her vision darting to look at the buttons on his shirt instead, briefly flicking to the carpet beneath them before returning to him. She’s nearly inclined to snap her fingers in front of his face, perplexed by how often he seems to zone out. It’s only when she bites her lip uneasily, does he exit out of his trance.

“ _Are_ you?” his voice purrs so deeply, she feels self-conscious by how wet he’s making her from just talking. “You’re such an exquisite little thing. How’d I get so lucky?” Before she's able to respond, he scoops her up into his arms and brings her over to the sofa set in the living room. He places her sitting up, kissing her forehead. “I’ll make you feel so fucking good. Promise.”

She blushes again. “Alright, but I don’t really know… _anything_. Not much.”

“You don’t have to. Just be a good girl and listen to me. Do what I tell you to do. Be where I want you to be." When he senses her anxiety, he nuzzles his nose against hers. “Want something to help you relax? I can make us those drinks.”

She nods quickly. “Yes please.”

As he rummages through the minibar, he calls out to her, “Do me a favour? Could you just text one of your girlfriends that you’re not gonna be home tonight?”

Rey cocks her head in disbelief. “What? Why?”

“I think you should.” He pauses before continuing in an odd tone, “Do it for me. Tell them where you’re staying as well.”

Rey's pleasantly astonished. She’s never met someone so considerate and concerned for her wellbeing before. Most guys wouldn’t give a fuck about shit like this, especially when she’s already right where he wants her.

Ben Solo really is _full_ of surprises.

She takes out her cell to drop Rose and Paige a message. She leans over to one of the side tables to squint at the stationary placed there. As she types in the hotel name, she notices the bottom of the notepad, stated in a tiny, fine print—

> **THIS HOTEL IS PROUD TO BE A PART OF THE ORGANA-SKYWALKER GROUP OF COMPANIES**

What the flying fuck in space? Guess the world makes sense again. 

When he comes back to sit with her, he places two crystal glasses on the table and a bottle of champagne which he effortlessly pops open, and she dreads to think how much _that_ costs. He chuckles when he notices her stare at the bottle while he pours it out.

“Only the best for you, Rey,” he simply says.

He hands her a glass and they delicately clink them together, each taking their first sip. But her eyes widen when he slides a hand into his pocket to take out a small, metal casing, flipping open the cover to reveal some curiously coloured pills, mostly tiny capsules to be broken or ground into powder. While his gaze wanders over them, she feels goosebumps popping all over her skin again as she processes what she’s looking at.

He stretches his hand out. “Hey, come here. Sit closer to me.”

She slowly, but hesitantly inches nearer until he’s able to sling his arm around her shoulders, burrowing her tiny frame against his chest.

“Don’t be scared, baby. It’s just to calm your nerves. Loosen you up a little because you’re so tense right now. I use these when I’m fucking stressed-out at work.” He tips out two pills onto his expansive palm. “I’ll be taking it with you too. See?” She watches him toss one into his mouth before taking another swig of his champagne.

 _Nothing bad is gonna happen to you_ , Rey recites to herself. _You’ve told Paige and Rose where you are. You’re safe._ _He’s safe._

_Right?_

She must have taken too long to respond, because he leans to kiss her, slow and reassuring. She sees him place the second pill on the tip of his tongue, and like a natural response towards him, she instinctively knows what he wants, so her eyes close as her lips part. When they kiss again, his tongue pushes into her mouth and a gentle rolling ensues where she feels the pill move to the back of her throat.

He moves back, a finger caresses her chin in a praising manner before handing over her champagne. When she puts the drink to her lips, he rests two fingers at the bottom of her glass to tilt it further, forcing her to finish the entire bubbly in one go.

“Good girl,” he murmurs.

He fills their glasses again and by the time they’ve finished their second round, she’s floating. He’s right about the pill because it’s done a fantastic job at unwinding her. It’s a strange feeling, because she’s like in a dream, her surroundings looking soft and blurry.

He looks right at her when he brings her hand to his mouth, inhaling deeply against her skin, as if he’s scenting her before his tongue darts out to give a slow, firm lick on the inside of her wrist. Like a lion playing with its food, and the sensory experience he’s giving her is unlike anything she’s ever imagined, the tiny hairs all over her body spiking up. She giggles carelessly when he positions her onto his lap, parting her legs so she’s straddling him.

“How you feeling? Feeling good?”

“Mhmm…”

“Me too. I’m not usually _this_ calm, so the meds are working for us both.” He moves to lightly kiss her neckline. “So, what have you done before? How far have you gone?”

“Hmm…” she mumbles incoherently. “Mostly just making out and petting. Maybe a little of third base?”

“You gave? Or received?”

“Uhm, both…”

“Did you come?”

She shakes her head mildly.

“Has anyone _ever_ made you come?”

She gives him a woozy smile. “No. Lame, huh?”

“And these _boys_ you had fun with—still keeping in touch with them?”

“Eww, no!” she snorts before singing in a mocking pitch, “Why? You gonna _kill_ them?”

While he doesn’t answer, she doesn’t miss that deadly flash across his features, but before she makes sense of it, he dips his head to kiss her deeper this time. She laughs when he carries her again, walking through several doors before coming to a huge, dimly lit and opulently furnished bedroom. He settles her on the canopy bed with the towering bedposts.

“And you?” she hiccups. “How many girls have _you_ brought here?”

When he quirks an eyebrow at her, she waves her hand clumsily. “Doesn’t bother me. Just wondering…”

He’s watching her wordlessly again as he untucks his shirt, slowly undoing his buttons with his long fingers before unbuckling his pants. His hand pushes her thighs further apart so he can climb atop to rest between them, leaning in _so_ closely that she falls backwards till she’s propping herself up on elbows.

“You’re the only girl, Rey. The first I’ve taken on a proper date to _anywhere_ , really.” His tone is dangerously soft. “No joke.”

“Oh? What’s the norm then?”

Her heart practically stops at the sight of his devilishly handsome smirk. “Sometimes I’ll just fuck them in my car at some dumb parking lot like the whores they are. But mostly it’s at my place, where I’ll have _everything_ I need to get the job done.”

 _He's got a weird sense of humour, doesn't he?_ she thinks. 

Something at the back of Rey’s mind is telling her there’s something… _strange_ here, but there’s a quiet buzzing that’s drowning out any logical thought and her brain feels like its melting out of her skull. It’s so fucking dope that she can’t focus on anything past ten seconds and she resigns to ogling briefly at his carving of pale muscles that peek out from his open shirt. _Everything he needs to get the job done?_ she swirls that statement around her head.

Abruptly, her dissolving molecules lights up like a damn Christmas tree, slapping her hand over her mouth as she slurs, “Oh nooooooo…you mean _condoms_ , right? I—I don’t have…one? I’m not on any…any like…pill either?”

He blinks before shaking his head in amusement. “You’re so fucking precious, y'know that?” His tongue flicks out in an almost reptile manner, tracing across her lips. “That’s okay, baby. We don’t need any of those. I’ll get you a Plan B in the morning.”

“Oh, but…but…are you…?”

“Clean? Sure I am. Get myself tested more frequently than you think. Always wrap myself up _real_ tight each time too." He curls a hand around her nape. “It’s like I saved myself for you, little Rey. Just like you have for me. Gonna fucking come inside you over and over again. Mark every part of you so that you’ll know who you belong to.”

 _Are guys always this horny?_ Rey wonders.

When his lips envelop on her in a searing kiss, his enormous hand clamps down on her jaw firmly, and it’s so intense that her toes instantly curl with senseless desire.

 _Ouch_ , she thinks languidly at his punishing grasp. _He sure likes it rough._

It still feels like a dream when he undresses her, because her body is soft and supple from the intoxicants that she’s numb to everything he does—which is _not_ ideal because she does want to feel everything—but _this_ is delicious, heavenly and he’s absolutely fucking hot. When she’s down to just her underwear after he’s flung her bra to some obscure corner of the room, she’s literally drooling as she observes him remove his shirt and pants, revealing his insanely mammoth physique.

Nothing but concrete muscles to exemplify his formidable, virile aura.

He hovers at the edge of the bed to kiss her centre through the fabric, his fingers hook onto the elastic to slide it down her legs before his arms circle around her back, shifting her upwards on the bed. “Are you always completely clean? Or did you take it off just for me?”

“Just did it yesterday…” she mutters, distantly aware she probably shouldn’t have revealed that. 

He chuckles, resting one arm on the bed while his other hand travels down to cup her warm sex. “I’ll eat you out later, okay? Just really wanna fuck your brains out right now.” When she whines, he peppers kisses on her cheeks. “Shh, shh. I hear you, baby girl. I’ll be on my best behaviour since it’s your first time.”

Her thoughts swim when he uses his mouth to wet two of his digits, and then she feels _them_ , slowly gliding into her. She’s touched herself before, but she can’t hold back a gasp as something significantly larger than her own fingers finds its way through. Her walls tremble, attempting to adjust to this foreign invasion.

His warm breath tickles her neck, coaxing her to succumb to him. “You sweet, warm little thing.”

She squeals when he adds a third finger into her folds, and before she can adapt again, he does a curling gesture that causes her spine to arch, her moans resounding distinctively across the room.

“ _Aah_ —Ben! That—that feels—”

“Just a little bit more, hmm? The fun’s just beginning.” When he starts a thrusting motion, stretching her out, she mewls as her hips rock intuitively towards his touch, her dampness starting to trickle onto his hand. “That’s it, sweetheart. Look at you doing so well, preparing your cute little body to get filled up.”

She struggles to handle it, her back and limbs twisting to ease the intensity, but he’s restraining her body down on the mattress so she can’t move more than he’ll allow.

“Keep still for a second,” he murmurs, but when she only whines again, his tone shifts to something unfamiliar—something lethal. “You’re not being very obedient, Rey. Looks like I’ll have to teach you some manners, so you’ll learn to follow _instructions_.”

Just as her insides start to shudder from hearing that, he withdraws his fingers, earning her feeble sounds of protest. Her blush creeps back as she watches his tongue trail along the wetness she’s left on his hand. He sighs heavily, swearing out a low _fuck_ before he reaches into his boxers to lubricate the remaining on his erection. He scrubs his face against her breasts before his teeth momentarily grazes at each of her pebbled nipples. Once the last piece of clothing comes off, she accepts another sloppy kiss from him as he parts her thighs, arranging himself so that the tip of him lines up at her entrance. He takes her arm, moving it down till her hand touches him _there_ —

And while it’s a playful brush, her throat tightens at the sheer _extent_ of him, her body shivering in anticipation.

“I’ve fucked virgins before, but you’re so much more than that…” he mumbles into her locks. “You’re perfect, Rey. So. Fucking. _Perfect_.”

Her glassy eyes fly wide open to stare at the ceiling, her mouth agape when he begins to push forward, working himself all the way in as she makes whimpering, confused noises. She feels…full. Extremely _stuffed_ , if she’s really trying to put an honest description to it. He’s ridiculously huge, and she’s amazed at how her body is continuously stretching so she can accommodate him—

But when it appears like he can’t go in any further, her body shakes from the sensory overload. Her brain feels fucking fried to shit and her heart is pumping into overdrive.

“Ben—” her voice rasps, choking her words out. “I—I don’t think I can—”

“Come on, baby.” His harshness gives away that he’s lost all control. “Don’t make me beg because I _know_ you can fucking take all of me.”

She doesn’t respond, and he moves a hand to angle her waist, his fingers gripping into her flesh alarmingly hard that it’s almost excruciating pain. With one swift stroke, he ploughs through until he’s _completely_ sheathed within her. She shrieks, a high-pitched cry as her fingers claw into his shoulders where she’s holding on to him—

—and without warning, he stiffens as a feral snarl rips from his chest.

It’s quite a _peculiar_ reaction, as if the sound of her cries and the sting from her nails scratching into his skin ignited something inside him. His head falls to her shoulder as he exhales sharply, a rippling effect moving across his muscular back as he remains still. She feels his teeth biting and rolling against her neck, sucking down onto her skin in a manner that’s sure to leave a bruise. Her breaths are coming out short and laboured, her entire body quaking as she accustoms to both the discomfort and the realisation that he’s buried to the hilt at such an intimate part of her, taking away her first time for himself—

But when a quiet sniffle escapes her from the overwhelming emotions, that stirs him and he raises his head to look at her, his eyes darker than she’s ever seen with his teeth slightly bared. Her pulse soars when his expression slowly softens, leaning down to kiss her tears.

“I’m so sorry,” he coos. “Did I hurt you?”

Her eyebrows furrow, baffled from his deranged, mercurial moods. “It’s fine…”

“I’m going to move now. Okay, princess?”

 _Princess?_ Her heart flutters, and after giving him a winded nod, he pulls her into another mind-numbing kiss before engulfing her within his arms—

—and _finally_ starts to thrust.

She’s really not sure if the pill is still messing her up, but everything feels so agonisingly extreme and amplified. It’s like someone’s maxed out the volume of their surroundings—because every sound she catches, every hoarse pant he makes, every creak of the swaying bed, every slap of their skin meeting just roars in her ears together with her own heartbeats.

And it honestly feels like he goes on fucking her for hours because she loses track of time.

It’s doing wonders for the physical sensations too, because while she’s vaguely cognisant she’s having significantly rougher sex than she wanted for her first time, she’s surprisingly placated. He’s doing slow, but brutal motions, each time bottoming out so deep inside her that she gives out a strangled huff with every plunge—

But that can’t last forever, and his controlled pace starts to falter, becoming faster and severely erratic, and she jostles with each thrust. He even props himself up on elbows, glancing down to watch himself slide in and out of her cunt, her slick coating his length, his predatory eyes narrowing in a way that makes her body tremble, and it’s just so deliciously messy as they move together, all moans, growls and grunts. 

She’s conflicted, swaying on the edges of being embarrassed, but at the same time feeling so incredibly addicted by how much he wants her—

And she wants him too. So, so, so, so, fucking much and she’s not sure if it’s the drugs again, but it’s driving her out of her fucking mind.

“I’m almost there,” he gasps. “ _Fuck_ —I’m trying to hold it because I—I wanna hear you come first—” and he hisses into her ears with a frightening vehemence, “You’re all _mine_ , Rey. And you have the best fucking cunt I’ve _ever_ had—so wet, so tight, so—”

Her body kicks into a buzz again, his obscenity stirring something rotten and primal and her inner walls start to clench around him, dragging him down with her as she comes with a breathless scream.

“That’s it—” he pants. “Fucking come all over, baby—”

Her skin flares up like she’s aflame, his feverish gaze glaring into hers, watching her fall apart while he continues to fuck her hard through her climax. She’s never experienced anything like it. This inner paroxysm of pleasure where she’s both flying and collapsing at the same time, where she’s on the brink of suffocating, but he’s forcing her to stay alive.

And she’s not sure what induced her shot to hell drugged-up brain to say her next few words, so maybe she’ll regret it later, but it just felt inexplicably _right_ at that moment—

“You can have me, Ben—” her voice breaks from her cathartic sobs, “—all of me.”

That must have been his tipping point, because he suddenly wrenches her arms above her head, pinning it there. His final thrusts are chaotic, borderline violent until he finally slams down, gloriously emptying himself inside her with a thunderous, guttural groan.

When his grip relaxes, she curls her hands around his sweaty back, his chest still rising and falling from the exertion while her hazy vision stares upon the extravagant valances hanging from the top of the bedposts.

***

Ben touches her a lot, and Rey _loves_ it.

His lips move all over her forehead, eyes, cheeks and mouth as they descend from their high. Their bodies are slippery and damp and she stays in his arms until he softens enough for him to pull out, his cum seeping out and smearing her thighs as it joins to pool with her own slick on the bedsheets. His eyes dart there for a second, and a rush of emotion overpowers her again when she follows his sight, noticing a haphazard scattering of crimson spots among the murkier stains of their fluids, evidence of their carnal union, wondering if he’s going to be repulsed by all this mess—

But he merely nuzzles his nose on hers, kissing her forehead before offering politely, “Do you want to take a shower? Or perhaps I can run a bath for you?”

She actually _does_ want a bath, knowing the warmth will soothe some of the aches and soreness she’s feeling everywhere. But she’s too spent to move with her limbs feeling overly pliable, thinking she’s more likely to drown in the tub right now.

“No, I’m fine…”

After exchanging a few more gentle kisses, he scoops her up again and carries her to another guest bedroom, slightly smaller than the one they just fucked in, but equally embellished. He tucks them in under the covers and pulls her into a soothing embrace. “I’ve never slept with anyone before,” he sighs at the crown of her head. 

“Hmm?” she replies sluggishly. “As in…going to sleep together?”

“Mhmm.”

“Oh—” She tries to form a sentence, but her lids are threatening to close. “So…what usually happens after…after you’re finished with…with the…”

She can’t complete it, already yielding to the darkness that’s shrouding her consciousness. She snuggles closer to him as she starts to drift off, blacking out so swiftly that she won’t remember hearing his quiet response, his lips brushing at her temple—

“There’s no after for them. You’re the first.”

* * *

You know, you know me  
I like to get obliterated  
You know, you know me  
To be a bit debilitated  
You know, you know me  
I like it when I'm agitated  
You know, you know me

**—Excerpt from "Animal" by MISSIO**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Preeeeetttttttyyyyyyy tame now, because it’s her first time and he’s a gentleman (right???) And know that I’m incapable of writing any kind of sex without feelings/emotions. Even for villains.
> 
> As always, if you've liked this, lemme know your thoughts/comments on this chapter or fic 💕💕💕


	3. This will never end, cause I want more

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note the increase in chapter count from 5 to 7…😳 Had to split this chapter.
> 
>  **WARNINGS**  
>  I REVAMPED THE TAGS YA’LL PLEASE READ ALL OF THEM AGAIN! I know it’s a whopper, but because of the nature and themes of this story, I want to cover all possible angles so it doesn’t catch anyone by surprise. Sorry if I do miss out on any! Besides more smut, this chapter is gonna deal with contraception and health tests. Also, I received a query last update if the victims are minors (or less than 18) because it mentions the killer likes them ‘really young’. **If this fic deals with underage, I would’ve tagged that appropriately, but it doesn’t.**

It’s a deep, velvety voice which whispers in her ears that gently wakes Rey from her slumber. Her eyelids slowly open, revealing her large, hazel irises while her naked body remains comfortably curled up under thick, weighty covers. She blinks a few times, attempting to orientate herself—

But she flinches when she realises she’s looking right at Ben.

He’s crouching by the bedside in front of her, his chin resting on his hands that's linked together on the mattress. From the way his wavy hair perfectly frames around his ears and she can smell his clean aftershave, he must have woken up _much_ earlier.

“There you are, beautiful,” he says, leaning forward to brush a kiss on her lips. 

_Was he just…watching you?_ A slight tingle crawls up her spine. “Morning…” she lets out a serene yawn. “What time is it?”

“Still early. About eight, the last I checked.’ He tilts his head, his eyes sweeping over her. “Hungry? I’ve just placed an order for you. You’ll need some food before taking the Plan B.” And he shrugs mildly. “Googled the basics. We’re still within the effective timeframe.”

She blushes. “Oh…um, thank you.”

As she sits up to drink a glass of water, he studies her intently. “Still hurting?”

She moves her legs to gauge. “A little, but better than last night.”

A small smile emerges from him, and after taking the glass, he reaches out to caress a finger onto her cheek and down to her jawline. “Your skin’s still so rosy, even though I fucked you hours ago.” And he clicks his tongue. “You’re so perfect, Rey. Don’t think you’ll _ever_ understand how much that means when I say it.”

She bites her lip, unfamiliar to receiving an abundance of flattery. It feels like a hallucination, thinking she’s probably about to wake up in her own bed where she’ll conclude this as just a _very_ vivid, sexual dream about some guy that works a couple of floors above her who occasionally pays a visit to her boss.

“Ben, um, I—”

Suddenly, he begins to pull the covers off her, hooking his hands behind her knees to drag her to the edge where he gently parts her legs. His fingers trail against the light stains on her inner thighs, and another quiet sigh escapes him before he supports her calves on his broad shoulders. Recognising what he’s about to do, she gives out a tiny gasp, instantly flushing.

“Shh. I’m a man of my word, sweetheart,” he murmurs before burying his face between her soft skin.

The feeling is inexpressible, because while her previous encounters have gone down on her too, she can’t remember _ever_ being this way. His mouth must be made from the same stuff in heaven because it’s pure salvation in the way he licks, nibbles and sucks on her flesh, doing it ever so tenderly. _Maybe he feels guilty for being rough_ , she reasons. Her back curves, her neck twisting against the mattress as she writhes with immense pleasure. She adores the way his hands are never idle, his palms softly caressing along her thighs, sometimes squeezing her rear while his tongue essentially fucks her into some alternate universe.

Then, he pauses for a second, his eyes scorching into hers. “Put your fingers in your mouth and play with your tits.”

She surmises that Ben fucking Solo is literally sex on legs, because she moves like his voice controls her entirety, wetting both her thumbs between her lips before shyly starting to stimulate herself. Her eyebrows immediately crease as her eyes screw shut, her body beginning to quake into a familiar ascent with the delicious rhythm that he’s forcing her to respond to—

But when he moves a finger to trace the tiny pink nub that shatters everything else, her hands fling outwards, crumpling the bedsheets with her fists while her thighs fasten around his head. 

“I—I think I’m about to—” and a hoarse wail claws out from her throat. “ _Ben_!”

“Scream it out, baby,” he hums against her folds. “Let everyone hear how good I make you feel.”

Like his good little girl, she does as she’s told, her shrill cry untamed as her cunt convulses fiercely, the proof of her intense orgasm beginning to flow around his lips while she’s ablaze. She can barely breathe, wheezing helplessly as he laps up every bit of her climax.

When he climbs atop the bed to hover over her, he sweeps back her damp hair. She’s still trembling when his fingers grasp hard on her chin again, lifting her head to give a kiss that steals the air from her lungs, all while his tongue does completely obscene strokes in her mouth where she tastes both her arousal and the sharp, metallic tang of blood from the remnants of her chastity.

He’s so wicked—so filthy, and she’s dizzy from it all.

“You’re so fucking addictive, Rey. Never felt like this before.” His head drops to her shoulder, and while he’s muffled, there’s a tinge of weakness when he repeats again, “ _Never_ —”

Even though her mind’s still a pulp, her lonely soul feels an unnatural longing for him. Before she can stop herself, she reaches out to him, her fingers lacing into his luscious locks. “Me too, Ben Solo.” And she kisses into his hair. “Just you.”

***

After using her facial wipes to scrub off last night’s makeup, Rey takes a long, hot shower, and not because she feels disgusting, but because her body demands it like it’s an aftercare Epsom salt.

She finds herself sitting on the cold tiles as the water trickles down her skin, curling herself into a tiny ball with her arms wrapped around her knees and legs as her thoughts weave through what’s transpired in the last couple of hours. Her fingers press into her neck, doing small, circular motions at her muscle.

Why would he say something like that?

Why did she stupidly say it back?

She’s seen the aftermath he left on her in the mirror; the purplish hue where he’s bitten down on her neck to leave a well-defined _imprint_ of his teeth, the finger marks on her hip and the soreness around her groin from trapping her legs around his expansive waist. She doesn’t want this _thing_ to twist into something she won’t understand. She knew what she wanted from him, but his words are just fucking her brain up. He’s a complete fantasy; tall, attractive and nauseatingly wealthy. It’s just a bonus that he fucks the way he does, and _still_ understands how to care for her in an oddly chivalrous manner like he's from another era—

But _no_ , this is a one-night affair.

She firmly told herself this before she said yes in his car. They cannot go any further or it’ll make things more complicated than it already is.

She uses whatever grooming amenities she can find to brush her teeth and moisturise before blow-drying her hair out. She’s quite nervous that he’ll be seeing her without makeup, but fuck it, they are done after this anyway, and she'll happily go back to eyeing him from afar. They have such _different_ lives, and in spite of everything he makes her feel, she’ll sink before she can even attempt to float.

And without a doubt, she’s still somewhat afraid by how intimidating he is. _So, thanks, but no thanks,_ she sighs,

She washes her soiled underwear in the sink, wringing it before laying it out to dry at an obscure corner of the bathroom, hoping Ben wouldn’t find it and embarrass the shit out of her.

She checks her phone for last night’s messages.

As she heads to the walk-in closet, she spies Ben’s metal casing left open by his side of the sink. She tilts her head as the back of her mind wonders. _Did he pop another pill this morning?_ She pulls on a fluffy bathrobe and walks out to see him leaning against the table in the large dining room, their breakfast already laid out for them. He’s on a call, his wireless headset worn on his right ear.

“Not right now, I’m busy. Maybe later,” she hears him say, but there’s a chill creeping up. His voice is unusually cold and monotonous, unlike his soft, honeyed tone that he uses with her. 

_Oh crap._ She panics, thinking maybe this is a private conversation he’s having, but before she steps backwards, he catches sight of her, extending his hand out to do a come-hither motion. She’s hypnotised by him _far_ too easily, and when he pulls her into his arms, he mutes his headset before cupping her cheeks to kiss her slowly—

—and it’s so affectionate that it smothers out the background sound of a female voice _clearly_ speaking to him on the other end of his call. She notices the phone that he tucks back into his pocket. It’s different from the one he used when they exchanged numbers on Friday. _Jesus, how many fucking cells does he need?_ she’s almost frowning. _Busy guy, huh?_

Holding her by the shoulders, he herds her to a seat before pouring a cup of tea for her. He pushes a plate of waffles in front of her toast, gently using two fingers to pinch her chin before walking towards the foyer.

Rey is _starving._ The toast disappears within minutes and she’s already finished half of the waffles when Ben comes back. She’s sipping her tea as he sits next to her, clutching a small, white paper bag in his hand.

“Sorry about that,” he says nonchalantly.

She shrugs and smiles, her equal attempts to be indifferent—

But when she meets his eyes, there’s that ice-melting stare again, his gaze narrowing while examining her face intensely. She feels self-conscious once more, rationalising that he’s probably thinking she looks weird without a stitch of makeup on. Her teasing nature kicks in to alleviate her discomfort. “Still think I’m beautiful without makeup?”

Her eyes widen when he leans forward, using a single arm to grip a leg of her seat, effortlessly dragging her entire chair closer to him. He pulls her onto his lap, breathing against her neckline, “Yes, I do. You look like a baby.” He starts trailing kisses along her skin again. “Just wanna gobble you right up.”

And her head instinctively lolls back, allowing him more access to her throat.

She can’t describe it. This _thing_ between them.

Logically, she’d surmise it down to just a fleeting primitive need, an animalistic itch that should have been tamed from last night, but their bodies seem to have only grown hungrier for each other—more so for _her_ now that she’s given a taste of what he can do. She’s so consumed by those thoughts that when he looks back at her, she’s blushing again.

Her gaze quickly darts to the paper bag he’s placed on the table. “Is that mine?”

He nods, stretching over to take it. But _just_ as he’s about to hand it to her, he pauses and something wicked flickers across his expression, his eyes slitted with a glint that can _only_ be labelled as predacious.

“What are you doing?” she furrows her eyebrows at the way he’s just halted halfway. 

His tone is low and gravelly. “Am I gonna see you again after today?”

Her heart palpitates. If she’s learned anything from her more experienced peers, it’ll only end in tears by making a one-night become a two-night. Or three.

Or more…

He sighs when she stays quiet, sliding the Plan B further down the table, _far_ from her reach. “Guess we’ll just push this out a little longer then.” He yanks at the belt around her waist, allowing the bathrobe to slide off her shoulders and fall to her elbows in the most alluring manner. When he hooks a forearm behind her to curve her spine towards him, her consciousness blurs as he clasps and laves at her breasts.

She can’t think.

She can’t speak.

She can only _feel_.

Everything moves fluidly after that. She only remembers flashes of moments once he completely takes over her senses. Like when her mouth goes dry after he pulls his tee over his head and she sees those magnificent pecs again. Or when he wraps her legs around his waist, lifting her so easily like she’s weightless and her hands curl around his neck and hair. Or even when his pants fall to his ankles and he doesn’t waste a single second in sliding himself into her already wet and aching centre. She’s satisfied when it doesn’t sting as much this time, though his size is still _quite_ a bit much to take in—

But most of all, she won’t forget the way his lips crashes on hers when he starts fucking her against the wall, because it feels too real, even if she knows it’s not.

“Oh, _fuck_ —” he rasps, his hips rocking up to hers. “You feel amazing.”

She tries to bite back her noises, but his pounding is still as harsh as ever, her moans coming out as a blubbering string of _please, yes, harder, more—_

“Soooo fucking good,” he growls heat coiling praises. “You’re so _good_ for me, baby—”

It’s bizarre, having both pleasure and pain together as her shoulders and elbows scrape against the wall with each of his stroke. And while she wonders if he _knows_ he’s hurting her, but just doesn’t give a shit, he feels _too_ good. She tries to meet his thrusts, urging him on, because she knows it’ll definitely hurt more if he stops now.

 _Just dream a little more_ , she tells herself. _It’s okay to want things that don’t belong to you._

* * *

They don’t see each other for weeks after that.

Ben and some others are sent off for numerous business conventions in other states. When he returned, Rey subsequently accompanied Amilyn who was invited to be a keynote speaker at a prominent investment conference in another city.

It doesn’t stop him from messaging her though, and he seems to get cruder the longer they stay apart—

“Holy _shit_ …” Rey whispers, flipping her phone face down as she sat in the back row of the conference hall where Amilyn’s giving the opening address, her skin growing hot.

She’s beginning to recognise how relentless he can be. He made her sore for a good couple of days after _that_ hotel affair. Something her roommates now dubbed as ‘The Weekend’ after seeing Rey return home _still_ wearing clothes from the night before. And when they saw the bruise on her neck…

“What the fuck is _that_?” Rose had shouted. “Were you mauled by a tiger? I thought you had sex!”

 _Is there a difference?_ Rey wonders.

Like the gentleman he is, Ben offered to send her home, and she decided to give in this time. Honestly, it wasn’t like anything would _change_ if he saw the small, grubby apartment she lives in, but before she exited the car, he pressed her against the door, mouthing at her a little _too_ aggressively—

“There isn’t a choice here, Rey. You _will_ let me see you again.”

She’s torn with how to feel, because none have ever demanded her entire attention before, let alone a person with considerable stature and power as him. He’s… _very_ intense, to put it mildly.

Like most health-conscious girls, she made an appointment with her doctor— _in case_ his assurance was just the drugs and alcohol talking. And Paige insists that men say all kinds of shit to get sex anyway, but when the results came back, she saw what she wanted.

> **NEGATIVE**

* * *

“I’m looking for a Miss Ridley?” someone announces during a late afternoon work day.

“That’s me,” Rey answers and lifts her head—

But her lips part in confusion when she sees the man in front of her, his palm clutching a rectangular box with a red bow. He walks up, placing the the item on her desk and hands over a device for her to scribble her signature.

“Lucky lady, eh?” the man grins before leaving.

There’s no card, but there’s little doubt about who it’s from. She tells herself to wait till she goes home to open it, but she lasts less than an hour before she gives in, quietly untying the bow. The oak display case opens up to reveal a stunning single stalk of rose that's been completely dipped in gold. There’s a tiny piece of paper authenticating the carat and ensuring the flower has been perfectly preserved.

Everlasting for all eternity.

“You like it?”

She gasps, because Ben’s voice is right at her ear. She hadn’t heard him come up behind her, nor did she notice him coming out from the elevators. He tucks a strand of hair behind her ears and she flinches when he rests a large palm atop hers. “ _What_ …what are you doing? Someone might _see_ us.”

Amilyn’s not in her office right now, but _still_ …

“Who cares—” he mutters, and she shivers in excitement when he kisses the slope of her neck. “I wanna see you tonight. Meet downstairs at seven.”

Her goosebumps flare up. “Uhm, but I kinda have—”

“ _Tonight_ ,” he repeats again. His tone’s still casual, but she can’t help but sense an unyielding firmness in the second time he says it. And if there’s one thing she’s sure about now, he’s someone who’ll always take whatever he wants—

But he’s done something to her, because her body’s ravenous for him too.

***

When she steps out of the building, his car is already waiting up front. She scans the surroundings nervously before his chauffeur opens the car door, allowing her to quickly slide in.

“Why are you sitting so far away?” he chuckles. “That kinda hurts, sweetheart.”

It’s shocking, the way he beguiles her into doing things, and she’s already scooting over to him before her brain makes a decision. If she was feeling anxious before, the moment he kisses her again, she relaxes into him, each of her soft curves fitting so perfectly into his defined angles. 

“Sorry, you were saying you had something else to do?” he murmurs.

“Oh, uh, just—um, it’s laundry and movie night.” And she’s a little shy to look at him. “Thank you for the gift. It’s really…you didn’t have to.”

He nuzzles into her hair. “Miss me?”

“Mhmm…” she hums, nodding.

She’s never experienced such explicit directness from anyone before, bluntly commanding things, and asking her flustering questions without a damn in the world. It’s both inebriating and overwhelming at the same time, but while she’s unsure what to make of it yet, she definitely doesn’t hate it.

When they arrive, it’s not a hotel this time, but a towering uptown apartment residence. A location she’s willing to bet she’ll never be able to afford in this lifetime. Or even in the next, if there’s ever such a thing. 

“Your place?” she asks him in the elevator.

“This is one of them, yes.”

She shakes her head, feeling like she’s stepping way beyond what she’s able to handle again. Her hazy memory scratches at the surface of something. He’s bringing her home, but hadn’t he said if he did, he wouldn’t let her… _leave_?

 _Why, why, why the fuck are you doing this yourself_ , she groans. She’s not sure what _this_ is—what _this_ is becoming into. Are they some strange form of friends with benefits? Maybe his secret plaything for an occasional entertainment? He was on the phone with another woman that morning, wasn’t he? Or there’s really nothing at all and they’re just ‘flying by the seat of their pants’ kinda thing.

She’s curious about the protocol in asking someone like Ben Solo what’s really going on between them, thinking maybe she’s also a teeny bit afraid of what the answer might be. But why is he going so far to do and say things that make her feel like…

Like she means something _more_.

* * *

This will never end 'cause I want more  
More, give me more  
Give me more

If I had a heart I could love you  
If I had a voice I would sing  
After the night when I wake up  
I'll see what tomorrow brings

**—Excerpt from "If I Had A Heart" by Fever Ray**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Listen, he’s MEANT to be obsessive, predatory with questionable values, if you couldn’t tell from the tags. It’s only gonna get shittier from here. 
> 
> Sooooooo blessed with all the love this fic’s gotten. Lemme know what you’re thinking in the comments? 🖤
> 
> Random stuff about American Psycho (2000)  
> Patrick Bateman has two apartments; his own, and also Paul Allen’s after he allegedly murders him.


	4. Focus on me, look into my eyes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi. Happy November! Still here? 🖤🖤🖤  
> This is a MONSTER of a chapter (about 6.1k words) so prepare for quite a read. Yep, trashy smut with a darker plot and I can’t stop. 
> 
> **WARNINGS**  
>  Tags updated again. This chapter will touch on a very dark childhood. BUT IT IS ALSO mostly porn, some contraception talk and largely an exploration around the Naked Female Clothed Male trope. Just the average, everyday filth which will cover sexual experimentation and Ben’s sexual kinks.

Ben owns the duplex penthouse, and Rey nearly rolls her eyes at the ridiculous cliché of it all. He’s so far away. A walking fairy tale and any minute now someone’s going to realise she’s not meant to be here, and write her out. 

After taking her coat like he always does, there’s some vague exchanges; telling him that he’s got a sweet abode, and no thank you, she’s already eaten something, and that she’s _fine_ really, not edgy at all.

“Told anyone you’re here?” he asks.

“Here?”

“With me. At my place.”

She wrinkles her nose. Ben’s a little unusual, often behaving as more of a parent than a guy she’s seeing. Maybe age gap really _is_ a factor to consider. “Uhm, no. Should I?”

He tilts his head, muttering something a little too soft. Like it was meant _just_ for him. “Such a precious little lamb.”

“Sorry? I didn’t catch that.”

There’s a cursory smile before he steers her towards the enormous glass windows which spans across the entire living room, overlooking the city skyline. “Like the view?”

“Can’t imagine why someone wouldn’t.”

“Gets boring after a while. I always want something new. Something _fresh_.”

She snorts. “Not everyone has that luxury.”

He nuzzles at her neck. “You look nice today. Let’s take a photo together.”

She’s surprised by this. “Really?”

“Sure. Use your phone.” And after taking her cell and extending his hand out, like lovers do, he wraps a forearm around her collarbone and rests a cheek to the crown of her head. He takes two shots; one where they’re both looking at the camera, and the other where he turns to kiss her temple. He inspects the images before sending it to himself. “You’ve got a beautiful smile, Rey. Such pretty bone structure too.”

Her cheeks are pink again. It’s coming off as a compliment, but yet it feels… _weird_. Uncanny. Like he means something else. Something she’s not privy to. She bites her lip nervously as he sits her down on a spacious, black leather sofa.

“Drink?” he offers

“Okay.”

“Gin and tonic?”

“Yeah, maybe just one.”

While he gets busy behind the bar, she hunches over the coffee table in front of her. She sorts through the pile of reading material idly, not _really_ expecting to find much until she comes across something she never thought she’ll _ever_ find in his apartment.

 _A comic book?_ She holds up the relatively aged and tattered magazine.

**KNIGHTS OF REN Issue #1 — First Edition**

She flips through it, comprehending the summary and browsing through the panels. It’s a rather grim piece of fiction about a war in space, depicting an elite group of warriors who attempt to spread their supremacy through sheer terror and brute force. And they display unfailing loyalty to their cruel leader, an ominous figure by the name of—

“Kylo Ren.”

Rey looks up to see Ben sitting beside her, handing over a huge glass of cocktail. _Yikes, I don’t think I can finish this._ “Who?”

“The lead character.” He’s chosen to drink whisky, setting a bottle of amber liquid atop the table. He drapes an arm over the sofa, his thumb occasionally drawing circles atop her blouse that shoots warm sparks up her back.

“I didn’t know you read comics.”

“Graphic novels?” he winks. “I read a lot as a kid. Why limit your mind’s endless potential?” He gestures his chin to the magazine. “Always been fascinated by complex protagonists.”

“He seems like the villain.”

He arches an eyebrow. “ _Is_ he though?”

“Uhm…well, I’ve not thoroughly read it.”

“And you probably won’t ever get a chance. It’s relatively unknown and the publication was cancelled after a couple of issues. Apparently, it was too violent. Too unrealistic to have a character like him be morally grey and have his story told. To have a suitable ending where he survives.”

“That’s a shame.”

“Because?”

“No redemption or atonement for what he’s done.”

A dark grin forms on his face, and she’s strangely reminded of a wolf baring its fangs. “What does he need to be redeemed for? He wanted order for a galaxy in chaos. In his mind, he’s only doing what he believes is right. No one cared or told him otherwise in his ascension to power.” His lips curl, a tinge of scathing acrimony. “It’s only after he became a significant threat, did they _finally_ take notice of him, but it was already too late. Bringing him home alive was the last thing on the agenda.”

Rey blinks, her mind searching through the subtext of his words. And she finds it—that hidden sense of deep, dark isolation she’s seen in some of her foster brothers and sisters before.

“I’m sorry.”

He cocks his head at her. “For?”

“I’m sorry your parents weren’t there.”

He shrugs, looking uninterested. “Doesn’t matter.”

And she starts rambling, “I _don’t_ —I mean, obviously I never knew mine, so I won’t pretend to know how you feel, but I wasn’t… _alone_. Grew up with other foster siblings.” When he doesn’t react, she chews the inside of her cheeks awkwardly. “But I guess it was always a temporary thing for me. Kinda cheesy, huh? An orphan saying they want something more permanent?”

He stays quiet, watching her like a serpent attempting to charm its prey into a state of paralysis. 

She deliberates if she’s being too personal. Overstepping and overexposing more than she should. “Ben, I’m trying to say I was rude to you before. At dinner the other night. Everyone has their own struggles, and I shouldn’t presume to know what yours are.”

There’s a brief silence until he starts playing with the hair strands on her shoulder, absentmindedly curling it around his thick index finger. “Such a sweet, gentle girl. Sometimes I forget how young you are…” he murmurs with such unexpected tenderness—

But there’s something _wrong_ with his eyes. It’s almost like there’s…

An insatiable hunger.

She licks her lips, brushing off that perturbing slither. “No parents meant no safety net for me. I had to grow up faster than others. But maybe yours didn’t kn—”

“Oh, they most _definitely_ knew.” It’s unsettling how seamlessly he reads into her, knowing every thought inside her head. “They knew everything I was going through.” He swirls his scotch before taking a large swig. “Doesn’t look like it now, but it wasn’t easy for me to fit in. Didn’t have the right social skills. My awkward looks, my… _aptitude_ , made it hard to relate to my peers, so when I started stirring shit up in school, they put me through assessments like some weirdo. My mother wanted to ship me off to some—” and he raises his fingers to do an air quote, “—special academy for ‘ _gifted’_ children."

"Did...did you go?" 

" _Nope—_ " he says, his lips emitting a pop. "My father was against it. Said he didn’t want me to become a fucking freak.” And with a contemptuous smile, he sneers, “Can’t seem to make any of them happy, can I?”

Something is crawling on Rey’s skin, but she can’t figure out why, distinctly aware he’s choosing to divulge alarmingly private pieces of information about himself—to _her_ , of all people. And she annihilates her drink a little quicker than she planned, her senses starting to kick into a gentle buzz. _Wow, he wasn’t kidding,_ she thinks. _This is some pretty strong stuff._

“It’s all about the image, really. The _Skywalker_ legacy. The _Organa_ influence. If the kid was found with drugs in boarding school—if something fucked-up with a business deal—if someone had an affair, cover it up, because it’s not worth dealing with the press. Why bother with the trouble when you can simply make it all… _disappear_.”

She slants her head, pulse skipping. “Disappear?”

His lips purse, a short pause before smirking. “With ignorance, of course. What else, baby?” He pours himself another glass. “My uncle was even better. That reclusive little shit told my mother to send me to therapy instead. They obviously had to slap the entire facility with NDAs, so _nobody_ would talk about the Skywalker heir having problems.”

“Oh…” Rey exhales faintly, a little stunned by this knowledge.

“Think I must’ve changed shrinks more than a dozen times, until there was only one guy left. This weird, fucking ancient dude that looks like he died a century ago, and I was thinking, what the fuck would he know about the struggles of young people?” He scoffs wryly before taking another sip. “Turns out, a lot more than most. He kept saying he knows the _real_ me. That he sees my true potential, because guys with an IQ like mine—we get bored easily, and when we do, we get a little destructive. A little… _monstrous_.”

And there’s an unnatural chill in the air when he chuckles. “You know what he compared me to? A highly intelligent animal that can’t be controlled because no one even knows _what_ I’m capable of.“

Something skyrockets through Rey, like she’s about to step on a landmine, and every instinct tells her not to put her foot down and rear back instead.

 _Then_ —

He snaps his head towards her, like he suddenly remembers she’s _there_ , but when he laces his fingers into hers, bringing her hand to his mouth, she’s instantly soothed. He sighs against her knuckle. “Did I scare you? My apologies, I do tend to exaggerate about family shenanigans.”

She shakes her head. “So…you still seeing a shrink?”

“Sometimes. He teaches me to channel my emotions in a different way—into other, more _expressive_ pursuits. Said I wouldn’t even need to pull any moves because they’d come _to_ me.”

“…come to you?” and she frowns, perplexed by his statement.

He doesn’t answer, swiftly downing the remaining whisky and drags her onto his lap, wiping away any lingering doubts off her. She’s battling an overpowering desire to let him ravage her. To let him fuck it out of his system, so that she can take away his pain and whatever scarring emotional baggage that he seems to be carrying. _You’re not alone,_ she longs to tell him. _I can be here for you._

And in the midst of it all, she wonders if Ben Solo might be looking for someone to just… _listen_.

Among other things.

“Will you let me do whatever I want?” he breathes, and the little hairs on her nape rise. “Tell me, sweetheart. Say that I can do _all_ the things I’ve ever wanted to do to you.”

She’s frightened of how much she’s learning about herself—unknowing of how far they’ll push the boundaries, until it’s too late to pull back. Until she loses herself and she won’t know which lines they’ve crossed, or which turns they shouldn’t have taken, or what’s acceptable and what isn’t. Until she can’t separate between where he stops and she starts. She’s a line of dominoes, and he’s waiting on the edge before he tips the first block over to set off a devastating chain of events that can’t be salvaged. 

And _yet_ , she decides before she can dwell on any hesitations, to _nod_.

A hand snakes up her thigh, and he croons in a taunting tune, “Can’t hear you.”

“I—” but her tongue falls dead again. “Yes…”

“Hmm?”

“You can do…whatever you want.”

“To you?”

“…yeah.”

“And you’ll do _whatever_ I say?”

She presses her lips together, her eyes meeting his, but his expression is impenetrable and imperious. An eerie calmness follows as he unabashedly returns her gaze. He wants her to _willingly_ surrender, to break her down and keep her in an inescapable prison where he’s her jailor. She wonders why she’s irreversibly drawn to this darkness he’s offering her, and the thought unnerves her enough till her voice is barely a whisper—

“Anything you say.”

***

Time stands still as Rey melts into Ben, savouring the way he kisses her on the sofa, one behemoth hand touching every part of her body while the other firmly clasps behind her neck. She feels so small in his arms, completely dwarfed by the size of him, and she remains unclear if that should worry or comfort her.

And he kisses, and kisses, and kisses until she’s ridiculously lightheaded, bemused by how playful he is.

She always feels high whenever she’s alone with him; the way his voice entices her, the manner his hands grip her and how his tongue flicks and tastes every inch of her mouth. And _maybe_ she’s beginning to like it rough too, because despite him dipping her backwards, her spine considerably arching till she winces, her pulse still soars.

“I need to…pee,” she says when he briefly breaks the kiss.

His eyes narrow. “Up the stairs, down the hall and last room on the left.”

***

While it’s fundamentally impressive with atrociously expensive furnishing and fittings, his penthouse is rather austere, showcasing his obvious affinity for the colour black, with the occasional grey and navy hues scattered in unassuming corners of rooms. He’s chosen to go with an unfinished interior design with a mixture of industrial and vintage lightings, and though tasteful, there’s no hint of warmth or evidence of any personal touches being made.

Excruciatingly hollow and unfeeling.

And she feels cold, despite the apartment having adequate heating.

The directions he’s given has led her to a room with double oak doors, which seems a little _odd_ to be the guest bathroom. She peaks inside, attempting to fumble around the walls for the switch, but his motion activated sensor lightings flicker on, illuminating the room in a warm, subtle glow.

Her mouth drops.

It’s incredibly clear this is the master bedroom— _his_ bedroom, noting the floor-to-ceiling glass windows adorned with gorgeous steel grey draperies, another sofa set and an armchair beside the expansive bed positioned perfectly at the centre, and—

 _And_ …

She’s frozen as she examines the starkly apparent mirrored ceiling above the bed, only to see the reflective surfaces extend down to in-built wardrobes on the opposite side of the windows. _Fucking hell_ , she thinks, her body already quivering from the slew of inappropriate imagery of what Ben Solo could possibly be into.

She spots the corner entrance to the bathroom and rushes in, her skin already puce. She fans herself, splashing some water over her throat, and smacking her cheeks several times to snap herself out of it. She wore a cardigan over her top today, and she groans from the faint perspiration at her underarms. _Relax,_ she tells herself. _Why you acting like you haven’t slept with him before?_

“Because…” she mumbles out, staring at herself in the mirror. “He makes you nervous, doesn’t he? Maybe he just wants some company tonight. Some casual drinks, a bit of making out and he’ll call it a night.” _Sure_ , the little voice jeers back. _And that’s why he sent you to his bloody bedroom after asking your permission to do whatever kinky shit he wants. Don’t be fucking stupid._

And _yet_ , she cannot refuse her curiosity to discover this side of him, hidden behind the mask he carries in public. This inquisitiveness has only grown since he’s revealed such vulnerable aspects of himself. Ben Solo has always been an enigma, almost coldly clinical at work—

But not with her. _Never_ with her.

Together, they are a living flame, and she’s now finding out _just_ how willing she is to play. To let it burn her alive so she can have a taste of this unknown, forbidden fruit.

As she exits the bathroom, she stops in her tracks. He’s sitting in the armchair in a glorious manspread position, one hand holding his refilled scotch glass while the other props his chin up. He’s looking at her with such focus, as if she’s a possession at an auction and he’s assessing her value. 

_When did he come in? Did he follow you?_

He takes a slow sip, munching on ice cubes. “You like my room?”

“It—” her voice croaks, and she coughs. “What’s with the…” and she gestures to the ceiling and the surrounding walls. 

“Optics. Mirrors make the room appear larger than it actually is.” He slants his head, his jaw rolling slightly with a tinge of mirth like he’s toying with his food again. “ _Why_? What do you think it’s for?”

Her lips part from how softly hypnotic his voice is. She doesn’t respond, feeling the heat churning at her centre under his scrutiny as they hold each other’s gaze for a good minute.

He’s so strikingly handsome, it’s almost absurd till she wonders if this is a dream again. He finishes his drink in one go, plunking it down on the table with a carelessness she didn’t anticipate from someone as orderly as him. It’s only _then_ she notices his metal casing’s been left open by his glass, beginning to question if he’s a little addicted. With his eyes still on her, he methodically loosens his necktie and the upper buttons of his shirt.

Another minute passes in silence before he addresses her in a low, assertive tone, “Take off your clothes.”

“…what?”

“Everything off _except_ your lingerie. That pleasure’s mine.”

It becomes an out-of-body experience, because she doesn’t remember slipping out of her heels or peeling the cardigan off her shoulders and dropping it to the floor. Neither does she recall her nimble fingers separating each button on her blouse or unzipping her skirt so she can step out of it.

His gaze is an inferno now, blatantly sweeping over her body like he wants to devour every last crumb of her existence. He carefully unknots his tie, rolling it into a ball and tossing it to the floor. “Pick that up.”

There’s a sharp respire from her before she does it, nibbling her bottom lip.

“Cover your eyes.”

“Are you serious?”

“ _Now_ —” and in a chilling tone, he says, “Don’t make me say it twice.” 

This is what he what he wants—this _amusement_ is what her consent is for, and her heart pounds in her ears, an irresistible sense of trepidation and excitement flares up. If this is just _one_ of his games, how far will she lose herself in _all_ of them? 

She swallows slightly, clumsily securing his garment around her head. It’s a maelstrom of emotions, her sight engulfed in darkness as she awaits his next instruction. There’s a distant shuffle, a sound of something being opened before slow footsteps approach. Large fingers cup her chin to tilt her head upwards, his lips meeting hers where she tastes the sweetness of liquor on his tongue. The heat shifts again, spreading between her hips—

— _until_ he brusquely jerks her around, her back flushed against his chest.

“ _Ben_ —”

“Shh…” he murmurs. “Keep _very_ still, princess.”

Her memory feebly scours through remnants of their time together at the hotel. _He’s asked this of you before, hasn’t he? And didn’t he say something else too? Something about…_

She can’t remember, her brows creasing in bewilderment.

His fingers comb through the ends of her locks. “Y’know, the first girl I ever noticed, she had this amazing blonde hair. Each time she flips it, it leaves some fucking fruit scent behind. Eyes like the ocean and lips the colour of those springtime cherry blossom flowers. Can’t remember her name anymore, but she was…cute, I guess. In hindsight, rather attractive to my inexperienced curiosity.”

 _Why is he telling you this?_ she frowns. _He hates that you’re a brunette?_

He snickers unkindly. “She taught me _so_ much about the opposite sex. On the type of girls I’m into.” Something nameless is prickling in the depths of Rey’s consciousness as she listens to him, but his tongue moves to wet her earlobe, distracting her again. “Wanna hear something scary?”

“Uhm…yeah?”

His tone is deliciously soft, so heavily seductive that she’s confused if he’s attempting to frighten or arouse. “I wanna hurt you. Feel your body twisting under me because it’s sore. Hear those pretty screams you make from the pain.”

 _What?_ Her eyes are wide open in disbelief now. _Is this…still part of the fun? What kind of dirty talk is he into?_

His entire frame brackets hers, his nose trailing down her nape as he unhooks her bra, gliding the straps off and letting it fall to her feet. A stillness ensues between them and she pictures him staring at her breasts, her nipples pebbling in the cool air from the very thought. But _suddenly_ , something silky touches her, and he yanks hard at the bindings, fastening her wrists at her front while her consciousness vaguely notices his swelling erection at her ass. A strange rumble of satisfaction escapes him, his muscles flexing and unflexing around her. And the comprehension hits her like lightning.

He _likes_ that she’s helpless.

It fucking turns him on. More so when she sounds out her discomfort and squirms under his grasp. Just like when he hilted so ruthlessly inside of her for the first time in spite of her cries. Just like when he slammed into her harder while her skin grazed against the wall.

 _Still want to play, Rey?_ her inner voice echoes. _Are you safe? Do you feel in control?_

His breath warms her ear, his fingers pinching her nipples. “Has anyone made you feel like this? Like I have?”

“No. Never.” She’s startled by how resolute her answer is.

He exhales, an inebriating pleasured sound. She gives out a stuttered moan when he squeezes her breast, rubbing and twisting herself against him. She feels his growing bulge at her bottom again, and her thighs shake. She wants it badly. _Desperately_.

“Did you do what I asked?”

“What…you asked?” she repeats.

He sighs, a hint of impatience. “Started the pill?”

Oh.

She nods, telling herself she did it for her own too, not just for him. But as a kiss brushes her temple followed by a soft praise, she can’t shake the feeling of something clawing inside her. Like there’s an inevitable conclusion where she’s a porcelain doll and he’s her maker, and she’ll be everything he’s ever wanted—

But would that be so bad?

“On your knees.”

She must have taken too long, because he shoves her down and she lands on the floor harshly, realising she didn’t fall over because he’s still gripping her shoulder. _Ouch_ , she grimaces at her kneecaps. _That’s gonna bruise for sure._ She senses he’s circling her, a finger tracking a path from her nape to her jaw.

He lifts her head. “You belong to me. Isn’t that right, my love?” 

She shivers. Another effortless sequence of sweet nothings from his lips and her hold on reality crumbles again. It just wasn’t fair how easily he gets her to bend to his whims. She wishes she could see his face, to look into his eyes and ascertain if…

If there’s _more_ to this than just an entertaining pastime for someone like him.

She nods soundlessly.

“Use your words.”

“Yes.”

“The _full_ sentence.”

“I…belong to you.”

She’s surprised by how little resistance she has. Almost as if she _truly_ believes it, which can’t be right, surely. What use would the sole inheritor to one of most powerful family legacies have for her? He probably just enjoys fucking with her, in more ways than one. There’s a clinking of a belt buckle and a zipper movement before she hears an unmistakeable act of him palming himself, the sound of his skin moving with his fist.

His voice has a rough edge. “Gonna fuck this pretty little mouth in a second.”

Before she’s able to wrap her mind around it, his hand knits into her hair, coaxing her forward until she feels something warm touch her mouth. Practically on sheer instinct, her tongue darts out to taste something salty and musky, and while she’s not given too many orals, even _she_ knows it’s the tang of precum—

—and finally, he slides himself past her lips, edging his way in over her tongue, giving out a slow exhale like he’s lowering himself into a bath at the end of a long day. There’s a gentle tickle of his garment and she imagines he’s still fully clothed, towering before her while she’s blindfolded with hands bound to the front. An imagery that makes her feel completely depraved. He’s _substantial_ and she knows this won’t be comfortable. Her mouth closes around him, tasting a spicy mixture of something loamy and masculine.

Just like everything else about Ben Solo, he tastes flawless.

There’s a sharp intake of breath, his thumb caressing across her cheekbones and tracing where her skin stretches outwards from his length. “Gonna be a good little girl and take it, hmm? Swallow every last drop of my cum.”

She can’t reply, her mouth is stuffed. _Crammed_.

“Do you understand?”

She makes a muffled noise and he shudders, a subtle tremor sweeping over where she can feel him.

He strokes her neck. “Relax yourself.”

It starts slow at first, but in no time, he’s meeting the back of her throat, his rocking motions deep and precise while their sloppy sounds echo in cadence with his harsh breaths. It’s difficult to keep at his pace without any gagging reflex—without the trickles of spit escaping the corners of her lips and her jaw starting to tire. He’s strangely mindful too, his hands bunching her locks away from her face while plunging into her.

Something nasty awakens in her again, because she wishes to _see_ —to look at him when he’s unravelling because of her. Without thinking, she pushes forward, her tied hands atop his muscular thighs to balance as she starts sucking and swallowing, bobbing her head to meet each of his thrusts. Her fingers blindly grasp into the fabric of his pants and she thinks they must look obscene.

His rhythm stutters. “ _Fuck_ —just like that, sweetheart.”

Her hands don’t work so she keeps her tongue moving, swirling over his skin as he fucks himself with her mouth. He’s shifted to jerking her back and forth by her hair, no longer steady and she senses he’s building up. There are various words being said which she hazily picks up; _you’re_ _so perfect baby girl, pretty little thing, look at those tits, so beautiful with my cock in your mouth, take more, take it_ deeper—

It’s hot, rough and out of control, and she moans when he squeezes her neck, the vibrations sending a scorching jolt throughout him.

“Gonna _come_ —” he chokes.

She’s never allowed anyone to finish in her mouth before. He’s going to be her first. Again.

A few more haphazard thrusts and he comes. _Hard_. The pulses seem to go on forever, his release warm and thick, and she whimpers around him as her inner walls clench with need. She tenses from the sound he makes; a startling savage growl, and she imagines a magnificent beast gnashing its teeth together. He doesn’t move immediately, his hands still clutching her head while catching his breath. When he finally pulls out, streaks of tears have eased past the tie and down her cheeks. She feels decadent, her cunt drenched, lips swollen and bruised while her jaw aches.

He’s still panting when he demands, “Show me. Open your mouth.”

She’s shy at first, but after complying, he clasps her chin while a finger swipes at the drips of cum escaping from the corners. He tilts her head back as a sign for her to swallow, slowly pushing his sizable digit between her lips so she can lick up the residue he caught.

“Good girl…” he whispers. He helps her up and rubs her knees. “Poor thing, did that hurt?”

She clears her throat that’s still feeling raw. “I thought you wanted that.”

There’s a short silence before he chuckles. “A little mouthy today, huh?”

“I just meant—”

“If I _really_ wanted that, Rey—” and a forearm curls around her waist, “—you wouldn’t be standing right now.” He hums like he’s thinking. “I’ll need a minute, but _you_ on the other hand…”

And she gasps when he lifts her off her feet, gathering her into his arms, her wrists awkwardly resting atop her breasts. He’s not gentle like last time, carelessly throwing her atop the bed before tugging her underwear down. He’s _so_ temperamental that it scares her a little. But she’s gradually recognising that it’s _because_ it’s dangerous. That Ben’s seemingly so unsafe and volatile, a secret that he’s chosen to share with no one else but her, gives Rey a high unlike anything else. He could have anyone, but for reasons unknown, he wants _her_.

He presses a palm on her abdomen, firm and weighty. _Be still_. A warning.

A rustling of clothing ensues, the mattress dipping from his weight and he wrenches her to her knees. Her back is against his chest again, but this instance, it’s skin on skin. There’s a mild jerk at the tie, allowing it to fall away as a sudden rush of light floods her vision, cloudy for a minute or so before she finally sees what he wants.

He’s aligned them to the wardrobe mirrors.

She’s paralysed again, unable to tear her eyes away from their reflection. While he’s bared a little more with his shirt unbuttoned and his pants unzipped, it’s still a stark contrast to her complete bareness. She doesn’t recognise the girl in the mirror—lips a pouty red and skin flushed, softly glowing in gold tones beneath the lights. He’s looking right at her, hunching over to nibble strands of her hair, his gaze akin to an empty void that glares back. And when he slides a hand down to cup her entrance, two fingers slowly parting her folds and slipping inside, her breath hitches, allowing her to finally break the trance and look away.

“ _No_ —” His voice hisses with such vehemence that she recoils. He doesn’t give her time, instantly crushing her tighter against him while the other hand spans across her throat, forcing her chin upwards. There’s a reprimanding click of his tongue as he shakes his head. “Eyes on me, baby. _Look_.”

It’s _too_ much— _too_ vulnerable, and she wants the blindfold again.

Tonight, his movements are impeccable, far more punishing than the first time. The disgraceful, wet noises and her sobs are loud, resounding in his bedroom as he demands her to witness the way he ruins her. How immaculately he works her like an instrument and the speed of which she’s collapsing around him. Her emotions are convoluted, both annoyed and intoxicated that he’s deprived her of seeing him come earlier, distantly wishing her hands were unrestricted so she can touch him too.

“Want to come?”

“Y-yes!” She’s barely hanging on, desperately wanting to keel over, but his grip is absolute.

“So soon?” he coos into her ears. “Don’t you want this to last a little longer?”

“I—I can’t. I’m going to—” and a wrecked sob leaves her when he removes his fingers.

“You’ll come when _I_ say you’ll come.” He mouths at her shoulder, pushing his coated fingers into her mouth, and she intuitively licks at her own wetness. “Never tasted anyone— _anything_ like you.”

Her head starts to spin, her forehead creasing with beads of sweat forming along her eyebrows. He’s biting and lapping around her neck again, all while he continues to glower through the mirror with a searing calmness. A subtle dare at her to disobey him and break their eye-contact. 

His fingers shift inside her cunt again, doing deep, curling motions. “Can’t wait anymore?” She shakes her head most fervently, almost a crying mess when he kneads and strums her breasts. “Such a spoilt princess. Always gets her way, doesn’t she?” She wails when his pace moves faster, harsher and he’s bringing her to where she needs to be. “But after this, you’re gonna let me fuck you until you come again on my cock, yeah?”

“Yeah—”

She squeals when he grinds against her rear. “Should fucking put you over my knee till you can’t sit for a week.”

And she implodes, her head dropping onto his shoulder, spine curving as she wheezes through her orgasm while he drags his lips at her cheekbones. He doesn’t waste a moment, efficiently untying her wrists to see blue-grey abrasions starting to form around them. He lets her fall back onto the mattress as he shrugs off his shirt. Keeping his trousers on, he proficiently pulls out and strokes his length once more.

She’s still riding those delicious waves when her legs are roughly thrown apart—

—and before she realises, he’s atop her and pushing in. The feeling is so _extreme_. Something unaccustomed, because her walls are contracting and expanding at the same time.

“Shit, fuck, _fuck_ —” he bites out. “Felt that. You’re so fucking tight right now. Not gonna last long.”

The climax made her pliant, already arching towards him while his immense hands dig at her hip and beneath her tailbone. It’s a thorough chaos on his bed with her breathless hiccups and cathartic tears as he rudely shoves himself inside her. Her nails scrape at his scapulas when they moan together, his mouth greedily on hers when he begins pounding.

And she still wants _more_.

Like it isn’t enough that he’s already here, tangled up with her in a perspiring mass of solid flesh. If she’s a puzzle, he's holding the final pieces, because it’s wickedly vulgar; the way they wrestle across the slick damp sheets, the smells that fill the space and the sounds they shout.

Rey’s eyes are opaque now, a gorgeous likeness to a frosted glass window. She catches sight of the mirror above them, his enormous physique overshadowing her till only her legs around his waist and her brown hair spilled over the white covers are visible. The fabric of his pants is rubbing against her thighs, but it’s drifted a little lower now, exposing just enough to see the start of his well-defined ass. She’s an empress being worshiped, her blood burning with a passionate lust as she watches how provocatively his back muscles stretch and undulate as he fucks her.

And like Ben always does, he fucks her _hard_. Brutal and domineering, like he’s claiming her in some primal mating ritual. Like he owns her. And she supposes he does in a way, but she’ll keep that thought to herself for now.

“Just wanna fill you up every fucking day,” he groans, sounding almost angry. “See you walking around, knowing that you’re full of my cum.”

“Please…” _Just do it._

He slows, for no other reason than to tease. To frustrate her a little more. Drive her crazier and delirious. She’s on the verge of insanity when he props himself up to follow her gaze. “Don’t be shy, baby. I like watching too.”

“ _Ben_ —” she whines, already adrift and beyond any inhibitions with him. “I…I want…”

 _I_ _want you. Not just like this._ There are no drugs in her this time, so her mouth behaves. In some ways, that’s worse, because everything becomes true. It turns unfairly real again, pulling at her heartstrings till it hurts. _What is this? What are you doing to me?_

“Tell me.” His incendiary pair of irises beckons to her, but she shakes her head, canting her hips instead and pulling him closer. He chuckles at her insolence, a strained tenor. “Such a menace today, aren’t you? You’re lucky I’m in a good mood.”

She huffs, her pulse wild and her skin fiery. “What are you—”

His lips cut her off when it crashes against hers, his biceps pushing against her knees, folding them up to her breasts and spreading her further than she’s ever been. This new angle hits differently, deeper than before and her screams heighten to a frenzy while he rocks and lurches into her, swiftly building another release. It feels both right and wrong, the way he corrupts and defiles every part of her. Treating her body like an object to fuck himself with.

“ _Yes_ —” she’s making a flagrantly weeping noise, incapable of forming complete sentences between his gruelling thrusts. “Right _there_ , don’t stop, it—it feels—”

With him, no spaces are missed. There’s nothing untouched and nowhere unconquered. And because she’s been a dreamer, not quick enough to guard her own sentiments, she’s his for the taking. He won’t let her keep anything for herself.

Not even her own heart.

This time, Ben comes first. He rips himself away from her mouth, his teeth clamping down on the gap between her neck and her shoulder to stifle his gratified roar while spilling inside her. That tips her off the precipice, her cunt clenching around him as he’s ruthless in forcing her into another orgasm.

And Rey falls.

She falls, and falls, and falls into an endless ecstasy, and—perhaps a little intentionally—deeper into his inescapable grasp.

* * *

Don't know what you want from me  
You don't even know my name  
Tell me what you want from me

**—Excerpt from "Animal" by MISSIO**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I cannot NOT do a childhood backstory for him. It’s wired into my genetic code. And COME ON, after getting that TLJ BTS photo of him manspreading, it had to be here. 
> 
> Anyway…real life and some stuff in the Reylo fandom has been a little tough lately, so this fic ended up going WAY PAST October. If you’re enjoying this, lemme know in your comments? Sometimes, I’m unsure and second guess myself. Your constant enthusiasm, validation, kind encouragement and interactions are what keeps writers going 💕
> 
> I’m on [Twitter](http://twitter.com/pocketsofdaisy) 🦋
> 
> Source:  
> [Knights of Ren](http://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Knights_of_Ren)  
> [AD's Manspreading on TLJ BTS](http://twitter.com/sleemo/status/1313912400538722304)  
> [AD's GMA Interview (Bendemption)](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4pxAjStgxJw)
> 
> Random stuff about American Psycho (2000)  
> Patrick Bateman is somewhat of a narcissist (I’m being nice), so he actually checks himself out in the mirror while he’s literally in the act of having sex. Yep, that’s right.


	5. Her eyes, she's on the dark side

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To those who celebrated, hope ya’ll had a good Thanksgiving 💕 Can’t believe it’s Christmas soon! 🎄
> 
> This crazy chapter (like cringey dark comedy, weird shit, horror, thriller, porn all mashed in one) was such a challenge to write. This one’s dedicated to my betas [reylo_addict](http://archiveofourown.org/users/reylo_addict), [fettuccine_alfreylo](http://archiveofourown.org/users/fettuccine_alfreylo) and [CaraQ301](http://archiveofourown.org/users/CaraQ301) who are the gems who dealt with my whining for almost TWO weeks. Without this support group, this chapter would NOT have been possible 🖤
> 
>  **HUGE WARNINGS (** spoilers**):** New tags added. This will have mentions of graphic violence of murders, drug usage, overall unhealthy and possessive behaviours, elements of sexual coercion and elements of non-con that leads to very rough sex, offensive language and extremely dubious consent. The setting is where Rey has alcohol and drugs in her, therefore she can’t aptly consent (even if she’s enjoying it) and she wasn’t told by Ben what the new drug is either.

It’s like he can’t get enough of her.

An endless greed.

A desperate, lonely emptiness that somehow can only be filled with one another.

Ben has her one more time before she passes out, lifting her onto his lap with her fingers bunching into his hair. He shows her the best way to ride him. His mouth finds her breasts as he guides her hips to be in sync with his, her brown waves falling like a curtain around them. She’s lost in the way they fit; where he’s hard and she’s soft, their lips wet and puffy from their ministrations, and from his throaty groans that ricochet through the darkness of his bedroom—from his heavily aroused gaze that holds hers as they fuck, she can pretend he’s adrift from those emotions too.

 _You’re doing so well, baby girl,_ he tells her. _Wanna stay inside you forever._

It spurs her on even when she’s exhausted. Even when she’s utterly spent and doesn’t think she can go on. Even when her cunt feels ruined beyond repair, he still sheaths in and out so effortlessly.

Like she was built just for him.

***

When Rey opens her eyes again, she’s alone, awakened by the irksome noises of something vibrating across a flat surface. She cranes her neck, peering at the bedside table. 

> **INCOMING CALL**
> 
> Girl 37

_Huh?_ she blinks at it, gradually grasping that this isn’t her phone. The same caller rings twice more and she presses her lips together, her sluggish brain swirling with only one thought; _what nameless number am I?_ Before she can dwell on it, she spies the time.

> **1:56 AM**

“ _Fuck_ —” she swears.

No way she’s staying overnight when tomorrow’s a work day.

Springing out of bed, she tumbles around the room, grabbing pieces of their clothing that’s crumpled to the floor. She folds his as best as possible and leaves it on the armchair. The bathroom lights flicker on, and she cringes at the new contusions he’s given her. She hopes the girls won’t notice it. 

After getting dressed, she searches through the drawers for a brush to unravel her locks, but regrets her decision after finding some condoms. She’s unsure how recent these are, whether this confirms she’s not the only one he’s sleeping with, and if she should be seeing other people too. _Does he buy them expensive gifts and say the same sweet words?_ she sighs, her mood plummeting from reality sneaking back up.

She tries the mirror cabinet, and her body goes stiff from what greets her. There are the usuals to upkeep his hygiene; facial products, razors, toothbrush, toothpaste, colognes, perfumes—

But there’s _heaps_ of pills.

Just rows and rows of orange bottles holding sufficient medication to destroy a small army, and while Rey doesn’t have a clue about the standard prescription for someone who has a therapist, the number of drugs sitting on the shelf looks undoubtedly incriminating. She squints at the labels—

> **THE FIRST ORDER PHARMA GROUP, INC.**
> 
> **REFERENCE NO:** BS-05191183
> 
> **PATIENT NAME:** BENJAMIN ORGANA-SKYWALKER SOLO
> 
> **QUANTITY:** 90
> 
> **REFILLS:** REQUIRE DOCTOR’S AUTHORIZATION. REFER TO DR. ALEXANDER SNOKE ONLY.

She shuts the cabinet quietly, undecided if she wants to understand any of it.

“Having fun?”

She flinches when Ben appears in the reflection, his large frame leaning against the doorway, arms crossed.

 _How long has he been there?_ She turns to face him, anticipating to see him peeved by her prying. Oddly, he seems more amused than anything else, but there’s a fleeting scowl when she shrinks back, her hips pressed to the marble counter. She’s rigid when he touches her, prompting his eyes to flick towards the cabinet.

“Does that make you feel differently about me?”

She shakes her head, looking at his beauty marks instead. If she has any concerns, she’s quick to hide it. If he senses her growing uncertainties, he doesn’t address it.

“Why’re you all dressed up?” he asks. “Leaving so soon?”

She nods.

“Why?” and she could have sworn his arms tightened around her for a second. “You can stay.” 

She swallows, knowing that would fuck-up her already chaotic emotions. “There’s some stuff I need to do for Amilyn tomorrow. Going in early.” And her fingers draw rings atop his chest. “Is that okay?”

The silence stretches out this time. Finally, his gaze drops to her mouth, dipping his head to give a kiss that feels heavier than normal and unusually drawn out. For a moment, she wonders if it wasn’t just his arousal talking when he said she’d never leave—

But he eventually rears back, giving her a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes.

“Of course. Why wouldn’t it be okay?”

* * *

“Guess what I heard,” Kaydel Ko Connix whispers.

“What?” Rey lifts an eyebrow at her co-worker’s tone, like it’s the world’s most dangerous secret. She’s waiting for the elevators so she can grab a quick afternoon pick-me-up.

“Apparently, they got the lingerie model, Gwyneth Phasma, to host the annual dinner with the clients.”

“Why is _that_ such news?”

“Was a last-minute request, and rumour is, she only agreed as a favour because of her _close_ affiliation with Ben Solo from Corporates.” Kaydel smirks, rolling her eyes. “They absolutely banged. I’d bet my life savings on that.”

Rey wrinkles her nose. Not surprising if there’s a shred of truth in that. Phasma is high society, and not to mention a stunning _blonde_ too. She’s so disoriented by her thoughts that she doesn’t notice Kaydel dissecting her every reaction.

“Are you sleeping with him?”

Rey recoils in surprise. “What the _hell_?”

“Wasn’t gonna say anything before, but someone saw you getting in Solo’s car awhile back. Well, okay, not exactly. They said she _looks_ like you, but they weren’t sure.” And Kaydel folds her arms, bemused by her silence. “Want my advice, kid? Stay away. Girls like you don’t have the chops to handle guys like him _._ Just find a nice, uncomplicated man instead.”

After reaching the staff cafeteria, Rey recognises how horribly paranoid she’s becoming, secretly questioning if Kaydel had a thing with Ben too. She’s also blonde, rather attractive in her own right, and _much_ closer to Ben’s age than she is.

She waits for her latte order while idly watching the mounted TV screen.

 **“With the suspect still at large, young women around the state are still being attacked and murdered at an alarming irregularity,”** the news anchor announces. **“Authorities are baffled by the latest discovery within the pattern of killings.”**

The lead detective makes several statements to the media in a press conference. **“Forensics have revealed no traces of sexual violence on the recent two victims. This is a material deviation from what we’ve observed thus far. No doubt we’re dealing with someone highly intelligent, and with the way the bodies are methodically killed and disposed of, this is a game to them. A deliberate move to disrupt the investigation. Clearly this is an incredibly sick, very disturbed individual, and we will continue to ensure—”**

A voice interrupts her focus. “That’s some crazy shit, huh?”

She faces the man. “Are you following me, Mister Dameron?”

Poe Dameron is Hosnian Prime’s Assistant General Counsel, boyishly charming with a relaxed smile, and one of the loveliest individuals she’s met since joining the company. As Amilyn works closely with Gial Ackbar on legal issues, Poe and her share a warm association.

“Maybe,” he grins. “I can be quite a creeper.”

She laughs. “That’s a very dangerous thing to say given what’s happening.”

He pulls out his wallet. “Lemme get this for you.”

“Oh—” she pauses. “Uh, that’s kind of you, but it’s not really—”

“Nah, it _is_. You’re always saying no to me. Putting an end to that today.”

She blushes. Poe’s asked her out a few times in the past, mostly to have coffee during lunch or a drink after work, but no one at the office has ever been able to pique her interest enough, until…

“Hey, random question,” and she nibbles her lip. “Asking for a friend. If you’re seeing a few people, and you tell one of them something really personal, does that mean anything?”

“Uh, more context?”

“That’s all I got.”

“Right. It depends, really.”

“On?”

Poe shrugs. “Well…I don’t mean to sound offensive, but guys can be huge dicks. Maybe not all, but most of them. They’ll say whatever they think the girl wants to hear if it gets them what they want.”

“Like sex?”

“Definitely sex.”

While it’s just a confirmation of what Paige said, Rey can’t deny the slight twitch in her chest. She quickly throws out a grin. “Sounds like someone’s an expert on this.”

He gestures to himself. “Not gonna lie. I’ve been an asshole before. Not proud of it, but here we are.” In the elevator, he sucks in a breath through his teeth. “So…”

“Yes?”

“I’ve got tickets to see the new Galaxy Battles in two weeks. Trash apparently. They revived some old character they killed off earlier, but should still be a fun watch. Interested?”

“Uhm…” and she chews her cheek.

As more people exit to their floors, Poe leans in reassuringly. “We can go as friends, Rey. It’s just a movie. Nothing nefarious.”

Truthfully, she _is_ thinking about it. It’s just a casual outing with a nice guy, and it doesn’t have to mean anything more than what she’s comfortable with. Make no promises between them, just like how there’s none between Ben and her. And Poe’s…easy-going, nothing like the vortex of perplexing intensity that she has with the other one. She exhales gloomily, thinking she might have overestimated her self-control with Ben.

“Wanna think about it?” Poe suggests, walking with her all the way to her desk. “No rush. I can wait.”

“Okay,” Rey agrees. “I’d love to.”

Poe blinks. “Seriously? Wow, okay.” And he gives her a happy grin. “Must have done something right lately.”

“ _Stop_ —” she snorts, biting back another laugh. “Don’t make this weird.”

Poe waggles his eyebrows teasingly. “Alright, fine. What’s your num—”

Someone clears their throat loudly, interrupting them. Rey sharply turns to see Ben, sitting on the sofa just outside of Amilyn’s office, an ankle resting over his knee with an arm draped across the backrest. While his expression is relatively blank, his gaze pierces right into hers.

“Whoops, didn’t see you there, Solo,” Poe greets, completely oblivious. “Waiting for Rey?”

“Got a meeting with her boss.”

“Ah, right. Sorry about that. Will leave you to it then.” Poe throws her a friendly wink. “Catch up with you later?”

Rey nods, and after Poe leaves, Ben is _still_ staring at her with a cold demeanour. She frowns as she slides behind her desk, attempting to shake off her discomfort. “Your meeting isn’t for another twenty-minutes, Mister Solo. Amilyn hasn’t concluded her conference call yet.”

Silence.

She nibbles her lip before looking away, shuffling through some paperwork to ignore the obvious tension. At some point, he gets up to walk over.

His voice is low, but rings out in icy, clipped tones. “What are you doing with him?”

“Who?”

He glares, practically a warning. “ _Rey_.”

“Is there a problem?” she bites back. “Don’t be a hypocrite.”

He stiffens, his eyes hardening. It startles her, watching his typical veneer slip so openly. They hold each other’s gaze for what seems like hours, before he finally straightens up, looking taller than ever. “Tell Amilyn something urgent came up. I’ll reschedule.” 

Before she responds, he marches off, not bothering with the elevators and letting the heavy fire doors to the stairwell slam behind him. 

* * *

“Hey, dreamer!” Rose yells over the thumping music, snapping her fingers in front of Rey’s blank expression. “This round’s on me.”

Rose has been having a shit time for exam preparations, so Paige agreed for a night-out to unwind at one of their usual spots—solely because Rose insists on dancing. It’s been almost two hours now, the night consisting of swaying through smushed bodies, screaming in conversations, avoiding drinks being spilled on them, and finding quieter areas to relax at.

A broad silhouette lingers at the back of her mind, wondering how easy it would be to manoeuvre through this place with him holding her. Maybe he’ll get them a proper booth, so they needn’t elbow their way to the front for orders. Or even steal a kiss or two when they are alone. But perhaps that was never how it’ll work between them. 

There’s been a handful of guys who flirted, some being perfectly adequate by Rey’s standards—

But even as she’s getting tipsy from the drinks they buy her, there’s only one person she’d give any _real_ attention to, and he wasn’t here right now.

“What's the matter with you?” Paige asks as they leaned against the railings on the upper floor.

Rey shrugs, glancing at the dancefloor below them. _Ooh, pretty lights,_ her inebriated brain hums.

“Fuck off,” Rose snaps. “It’s about that guy you keep disappearing off with, right? You’re still seeing him, aren’t you?”

Paige touches her shoulder. “Did something happen?”

“Nothing happened because there’s nothing going on. It wasn’t anything…serious.”

Rose rolls her eyes. “Uh-huh. Sure, sweetie. For shit’s sake, with all that tension and hush-hush hook-ups you both do, it’s amazing how you’re able to keep calm in the office. I’d combust if Finn had asked me to sneak around. Not that he will, but you understand.”

As Paige and Rose are swept into another conversation, Rey discreetly takes out her phone. She pauses over Ben’s chatbox, blinking impassively, liquor swirling in her bloodstream. _What do you even want to say? Hello, sorry about earlier. He’s nothing to me, but not you. I just don’t think you feel the same way._ She’s already cringing from how corny that sounds—

But someone snatches the device away.

“Hey!”

“Ah. The mysterious fuckboy has a _name_ ,” Rose smirks. “Ben Solo, is it?” Rey watches in horror as Rose puts the phone to her ear while Paige playfully wedges herself between them. “Hey, asshole. Yeah, can you hear me? How about now? Sorry about the noise.”

“Rose, I _swear_ to God, you better be fucking faking that call!” Rey roars.

“Yeah, so this is Rey’s best friend, and Rey’s really drunk right now. You think you could actually grow a pair and come get her? Like stop being a dick and take care of her for once? Yeah, like right now. We’re at The Resistance.” And within seconds, Rose hangs up.

“What the hell did you do?” and Rey swipes out frantically. “Tell me you _didn’t_.” But when she opens the call history, there’s nothing there. She frowns. _Was it really a joke or did Rose delete it?_

“Don’t worry, honey,” Paige says, rubbing circles on her back. “If you really don’t wanna see him, we can leave.”

Rey files this incident away to deal with later. They order another round of shots and she eases up again. Things start to whizz by in a blur. Paige goes to the dancefloor with a guy while Rose babbles on about how Finn has the worst bedside manners. Someone buys drinks for all of them and Paige starts complaining about work.

Rose mumbles in the middle, “By the way, his voice is _really_ sexy.”

“Who?”

Rose laughs and shakes her head.

At some point, Rey is alone, knocking back another cocktail in an empty seat when a large shadow looms over her. She tilts her head up, and her lips part in disbelief. Ben’s frame is towering, both hands in his pockets as he stares down at her. He’s still in his office suit, the top buttons of his shirt undone. 

Getting up, her legs wobble. “Why are you here?”

He gives a mocking smile. “Didn’t you hear the call? Apparently, I need to man up and stop mistreating you.” He steps forward, a hand sweeping one side of her hair over her shoulder. He smells good, a comforting scent. A shiver flares up her back when his lips graze her ear. “Really? Is that how you feel about me?”

She hiccups, her arms trying to nudge him back. “What’s it to you?”

He frowns, clicking his tongue. A misplaced sense of pity. “Don’t be such a brat, sweetheart. If I wanted to mistreat you, things would’ve been _very_ different.”

It didn’t sound like a tease. Not really.

“There he _isssssss_!” Rose’s voice bursts through the moment.

Rey skitters back, but Ben’s fingers shackle her wrist, keeping her still. He turns to the Tico sisters, and immediately his features shift, masking his earlier belligerence. He studies them for a second before addressing Rose, “Ah, you must be the charming girl I spoke to earlier.”

“If not?” Rose scoffs. “Who the _hell_ are you? Huh? That you can just walk into our Rey-Rey’s life and behave like an absolute tool? And Jesus fuck, you’re fucking tall, eh? The world needs a kiddy stool to talk to you. We’re mini minions, you see, compared to you. A fucking _giraffe_ , that’s what you are. And did you get your lips done or something? Why’re they so… _pouty_?”

 _Fuck_ , Rey thinks. Rose is completely trashed, and Paige doesn’t look too good either.

“You’re her co-worker? So, what’d you do?” Rose drawls.

Ben slants his head, profoundly amused. “To Rey? All kinds of things, actually. But that’s kinda personal.”

“Yes. _No_. I mean, what do you do? Work?”

“Oh.” Something weird glints in his eyes, the angles of his mouth curving. “I specialise in murders and executions.”

Rey laughs awkwardly, but she throws Ben a confused scowl. _What the hell was that about? Was that supposed to be funny?_ He catches her expression and smirks, giving her a roguish wink.

“Yikes,” Paige wrinkles her nose. “No offence, pal. I’ve got a few friends in mergers and acquisitions, and it’s _such_ a cut-throat environment. Hats off to you.”

As Rose slurs a couple more snarkier comments to a deadpan Ben, Paige manages to stop cackling long enough to mouth at Rey an “ _are_ _you okay?”_ Finally, Paige slings an arm around Rose to cut her off. “ _Okay_ , energizer bunny. That’s enough outta you. Time to go.”

Rey attempts to join them, but she can’t, realising Ben’s hand is still closed around hers. She faces him, her eyebrows furrowed, but he lifts his chin haughtily, arching his eyebrows. Like he’s challenging her.

“Don’t worry about it!” Paige shouts, endeavouring to carry Rose who’s starting to stumble. “You get home safely, yeah? I’ll leave the chain off!”

And once the girls disappear out of sight, Ben surrounds Rey against the railing. Her cheeks burn when he curls a palm at her rear, pressing them tighter with their groins flush against each other. He kisses her, and instantly she knows he’s been drinking too. He savours her till she’s almost feverish, attacking her lips for a good minute before turning his attention to her slender neck. He tastes like danger. A spice she’ll sail the seven seas for, and it swirls all over her tongue, flowing through her veins. She can’t stop herself, her fingers already clutching his hair.

It feels good this way. Good enough to bury whatever uneasiness about him that’s building inside her. She always misses this when they’re apart.

“Want something to calm down?”

“I _am_ calm.”

“Give me a yes _or_ no, Rey. Don’t complicate it.”

They exchange scowls for a second. Rey sighs, rubbing her elbows. “ _Fine_. Yes.” She’s been feeling a little on edge lately, and with the crap she’s been hearing all day, floating into a bliss with him sounds ideal. Don’t need to think, just feel.

He reaches into his pocket. There’s a crumpling of plastic and he pulls her in again. “You trust me?”

 _No_ , her inner voice answers. _But I want to._ She shrugs instead, and suddenly—

“Ow!”

A sharp, fleeting pain flares through her skin, then something delectably warm and numbing. Her limbs feel soft and malleable as his fingers knead that spot, soothing away the sting. “What…what’s _that_?”

“Relax,” he says. “It’s only half. You’ll be fine.” He kisses her cheek, a forearm wrapping at her waist. “My baby girl will be less irritable.” There’s another kiss before he’s mumbling between their lips. “Let’s go. Did you check in your coat?”

She nods.

She floats down the stairs till she’s hovering before the coatroom, giving her receipt for her checkered wool. There’s an inner war with herself, and if there’s been any question if she has self-destructive tendencies, this _might_ just be it—

But when turning the corner, she freezes. There’s a pretty, athletic woman talking to him, and over the pounding music and her lightweight brain, she thinks she might have heard the blonde address him as _Kyle_ , but she refuses to linger. While he’s looking bored and irritated, the girl seems rather distressed, and Rey feels intrusive. Old frustrations rise to the surface as her vision turns crimson. Unfortunately, he sees her before she can slink away. 

“ _Rey_. Don’t move,” he barks.

She withdraws, her forehead creasing. Why the fuck is he shouting? And why the hell was she going to stick around while he chats up some other girl? Her head is starting to spin now. Maybe it was a bad idea to mix alcohol and whatever shit he gave her—

But he’s already grabbing her by the elbows. “Where're you going? I told you to _stay_ put.”

“Stop it.”

“ _What_?”

“Is this another game? She called you something else. I _heard_ it.”

And he swiftly fits the pieces together. “Oh. Her? She doesn’t mean—”

“ _Don’t._ I don’t wanna know anything about you. About her.”

He regards her momentarily. “If there’s one thing I can’t stand—” his voice slow, like he’s explaining himself to a child, “—it’s when people interrupt me.” 

She huffs in incredulity, liquid courage stronger than ever. “If you’re bored and just need someone to fuck, _whatever_ , I don’t care. But _stop_ making me feel special and leave me alone!” This outburst must have stunned him, because she’s able to squirm away to put some distance between them.

And while the pounding club music in the background drowns out her internal warning bells, something crackles through the atmosphere.

“What the _fuck_ did you just say to me?”

 _Ah_ , she thinks. _There it is._ The side of him that always devours her. She’s already forgetting what it was like when they were still strangers. Like there was never any other way between them, but this intoxicating intensity. She fights off a desire to tame him. To make him hers, even if he clearly bites the hand that feeds him.

He looks murderous, his jaw rolling. “Is that why you’re going out with that loser from the General Counsel’s office?”

She flinches. “Don’t talk about him like that. Poe is—”

“I will _talk_ —” each of the words steeped in virulence, his loss of control becoming more evident, “—about _anyone_ in _any_ way I fucking want.”

“You’re drunk,” she exhales angrily.

“So are you.” He reaches out for her, his tone shifting to become alluring. “Let’s go home.”

She feels it. The danger in him radiating off where he wants to obliterate her entire existence. Even as he cajoles her softly, her reflexes take a step back, and his eyes narrow. His arm falls back to his side, fingers twitching like he’s unexpectedly overcome by a horrible impulse to grab her. The air feels still as he takes a slow respire, flexing his expansive palm.

He tries again, moving forward now. “Don’t be like this, sweetheart. Come here.”

The aggression fades when her vision begins to revolve like a kaleidoscope. _Fuck_ , she swears. What the hell was in that drug that he gave? It’s like her body shuts down, because there’s no resistance when he takes the coat from her arms, draping it over her shoulders. A hand caresses her back in soothing circles. “There. All better.”

He’s so gentle it’s embarrassing her.

“Ben?” she mumbles. “I—I feel weird. Like…there’s so many of you.”

He shushes her with a kiss, and her consciousness goes dim, fading in and out where she catches moments of him leading her down the front steps and into his car, leaning on him across the leather seats while driving through the city before she’s being held up by strong arms in an elevator—

But things get a little strange. She doesn’t recognize this place. It’s not his penthouse, and there’s a faint smell in the air, but she can’t quite put her finger on it.

“Where am I?” she asks as he’s closing the bedroom door behind them.

“Home.”

“This isn’t your…” and she tapers off when his hand nudges beneath her dress, sliding up her thighs, and suddenly—

“Don’t _ever_ question me like that again,” he growls, a menacing rumble. Her eyes incoherently widen at his mood shift. “When I say that these whores have _nothing_ on you, you know I mean it. Yeah?” Her silence evidently pisses him off, because he abruptly gropes hard at her centre. “ _Answer_ me.”

Her rising temper is neutralised by the effects of the sedative. She wants to hate him, but discovers she can’t, trapped in this headspace where he’s not allowing her to leave. Her body’s already betraying her, the pressure building around her hips by his manhandling.

It happens lightning fast.

Too quick.

She elbows him off, a hand flying up to sharply slap him across the cheek. She _gasps._ Both palms clasp over her mouth, watching him go stiff. For a long time, nobody moves, both motionless from what just transpired. His lips curl, glaring at her with a shadowy slither of something lethal. Almost unrecognisable in his wrath alongside a voice that doesn’t even sound like his own.

“You wanna play rough, baby?” he whispers. “Sure, I can be rough.”

Her body trembles when he advances, the thrill spreading up her body with anticipation. A vile excitement for this violent, ferocious dance they are about to succumb to that’s sure to end in flames. One step back for her is two steps forward from him. She senses _it_ , unmistakably growing roots inside her veins.

Fear.

Fingers ensnare at her arm and she’s twirled in one fluid motion until he slams her against the wall, air knocked out of her lungs with the surface grooves scraping her cheek. He noses at her neck, the flat of his tongue tasting her skin. There’s a pause so she can speak. Or even scream.

 _Anything_.

But she doesn’t say a word. Maybe a part of her has always wanted this with him. To know what it feels like. To let go and let him just take.

“You wanna know a secret?” and he hikes up her dress, exposing her behind. “I don’t have the fucking _patience_ today.”

She yelps when he tears her underwear, the fabric coming apart from two firm pulls. Snagging at her waist, he heaves her onto the bed face down, pushing up her dress again where an open palm smacks her ass before his teeth swiftly sink down onto the right cheek. It’s hard enough to break the skin and leave a mark.

“ _Ben_ —” she blurts out in surprise, frantically trying to get up, but he roughly flattens her spine. A dangerous reminder of his visceral strength.

She wriggles in discomfort when his full weight climbs her. His jacket has been carelessly flung to the floor, and she hisses when he twists her head back. Their eyes meet, her gaze rebellious as ever, and yet she can’t deduce his. Something crosses his features, and he swallows, jaw clenching. Dread returns in that instant, imagining herself being ripped to shreds by this ravenous beast—

—but he simply bends for a savage kiss and he bites her bottom lip, dragging it till she winces. Their teeth clack together this way, and while he’s always been rough whenever they fuck, this wasn’t the same. She’s already aching and damp below, her slick being called far too easily.

And it terrifies her how much she’s liking this.

How much she’s _wanted_ it.

His simmering anger is becoming palpable. “Who do you belong to?”

She wrenches her face away.

“Tsk-tsk. So much spirit, princess.” He haphazardly adjusts the clothing between them, and after hauling her ass up, a hand bruising into her hip, he slams into her. The angle is intense and unfamiliar, and they groan together, her fingers fisting into the bedsheets while her toes cramp up. His body drapes over hers so he can reach her ears. “Say it. Say you’re _mine_.”

She doesn’t have to. She knows it. But right now, he’s a man-child throwing a tantrum and her defiance is far stronger. “You can beg all you want,” she snaps, her teeth gritted. “I’m not giving you _anything_.”

Like a flipped switch, he shoves her face back down, hand around her nape. A terrifying rage emanates off him now. “Lying little _bitch_. You fucking want me.”

And Ben’s movements are punishing, his bare skin smacking against hers, drawing out cries so obscene that they come out strangled. His hands are deft, a chaotic rhythm where he rudely palms at her breasts. The way he fucks her is a raw, uncontainable power. A possessive and vengeful act at its core for all the hostility that’s been building between them. Whenever Rey’s body shifts too far up the bed, he snatches her back, brutally skewering her onto him till her vision whites out. The exhilaration from being forceful must be overwhelming, because he’s untamed, the loudest she’s ever heard him.

“You know how much I’ve fucked you?” he snarls, harsh and pitiless. “How many times I’ve made you come? You think I’ll ever let Dameron—let _anyone_ , have you? I fucking own you, Rey.”

She can’t speak, unable to get words out between his artless thrusts. Her mouth hangs open, unusable except to drool onto the sheets and moan things that only serve to confirm the way he makes her feel.

 _You needed this_ , her mind croons. _You wanted it. To see how far you could push him. Just waiting for him to get his hands on you._ His body digging into hers is the only thing that feels real. Not his words or glances. All those easily misinterpreted gestures are far too cursory for her to naively believe they could truly belong to her—

But never his touch.

Never in the way he fucks her through this emotional wreckage that they are. 

“So fucking wet.” His breath is hot at her cheek. “You like this? Being treated just like those other sluts?”

A renewed flash of arousal and horror ripples through her. He _couldn’t_ know that secret. That long before their first date, how she’s touched herself in the darkness of her bedroom thinking of him. Wanting him to shed that enigmatic, measured demeanour and have her. Just taking whatever he wanted, so she could easily fantasize that he wants her more than anyone else.

More than _anything_.

Instantly, her walls flutter around him, climaxing with those filthy contractions from his lecherous words that roll so deliciously off his tongue. It flows like a sickness, infecting every molecule beneath her skin as her cries of pleasure sound decadently broken. 

“ _Fuck_ —” he groans huskily. “That’s a good girl. You feel me doing that to you?” Her whole body feels like it’s being ridden, sorely split in two that it compels a sobbing _yes_ from her. Pinning her down with his frame, he spreads her legs akimbo—

But when he reaches to lace his fingers into hers, her eyes screw shut.

How dare he?

She loathes what he’s doing, making this venomous adrenaline of sex and violence spill over to intimacy. It’s too much. It’s cruel.

He pushes the other arm beneath her abdomen, lifting her from the mattress so he can impale her thoroughly, burying himself so deep till she feels the way his length shifts her insides. Like he’s reaching for her stomach more than anything else. And her body shamelessly pulls him in, so she can milk out every last drop of his offering. Even when he comes, he doesn’t stop using her, surging hot pulses of spend escaping while he continues pumping inside her.

And his orgasm lasts for ages this time. A violent shake of their sweaty bodies moving as one, because she is him and he is her, both plummeting into an abyss where they are a single existence.

When it’s finally over, the stillness is deafening. 

Crushed under his mass, she tells herself that he wants to be close. To remain in the hidden parts of her forever. That perhaps, at the very least, her body is enough to make him stay. He’s already inside her head, so conquering the crude matter he drains for his pleasure is surely far simpler—

But she can’t help noticing that even after he pulls out, his hand doesn’t leave hers. 

***

Ben’s sitting across from Rey popping some pills.

The silence drags on as she’s sprawled on the bed, exhausted and wordless. Her gaze is blank, but whenever he glances back, she looks away. _You don’t know his world_ , her instincts whisper. _He’s dangerous and unstable. Probably a fucking addict too._

And yet, when he pulls her into his arms, her body is receptive. This spectre has twisted something poisonous inside her, and she only wants more when he kisses her everywhere with an apologetic tenderness she thought he no longer possessed. His lips are soft and gentle, his touch already fixing what he tried to break, and it feeds a yearning that physically hurts. Like something’s shattered within and he’s patching it up with sticky tape.

“You didn’t have to tear my clothes,” she murmurs.

He chuckles softly, his honey-tenor stroking her like she’s a frightened puppy. “I’ll buy you hundreds more, sweetheart. Anything you could ever want.”

He tugs at her wrists, guiding them to unbutton his attire, damp and sticking to him from the earlier exertion. She’s afraid by how easily she accepts him back despite this invisible, toxic _thing_ that’s tethering them together. Her head lolls back in his palm as he slides his tongue between her lips, a hand already unzipping her dress.

For now, she’ll think about it later.

***

Rey jolts awake feeling exceedingly thirsty.

She winces; her limbs tender, hair utterly knotted to hell, and thighs warm and sticky from the last few hours. Like a cat, she gingerly untangles herself from Ben who is faintly snoring. She watches him, realising she’s never seen him asleep before. He’s unusually beautiful this way, deceivingly appearing more like a gentle giant who would never hurt a fly. 

She tiptoes to pick his work shirt off the floor, loosely slipping it over her naked skin. 

Wandering through the much smaller loft apartment, she eyes the peculiar surroundings. Furniture draped with sheets. Newspapers scattered all over, curiously held in place to the wooden flooring with masking tape. The earlier odour is still there.

She wrinkles her nose while ambling into the open kitchen.

She checks the fridge, finding it mostly empty except for a few posh glass water bottles. She takes one and curses at the bottle cap. The bottom freezer has another strange smell, crammed with storage pouches holding dark clumpy stuff. There’s another, much larger chest freezer right next to the fridge, but this one has a padlock.

Something shiny on the floor catches her eye.

It’s a lipstick case.

Chewing the insides of her cheek, she places it on the kitchen counter, and rummages around for a bottle opener. But she finds items that make her blood curdle; alarming assortments of knives, ropes, cuffs, bindings, trash bags, industrial chemicals and gloves. There’s even a heavy nail gun in one of the larger cabinets. Why does he need all this? Surely this can’t be just for his kinky amusements when some of them look so…

She chooses a small knife, but as she’s about to pick up the bottle, arms wrap at her waist. A languid, wet kiss lands at her cheek.

“Need help?” Ben purrs.

“Uhm…” she rasps. “Looking for water. Didn’t want to wake you.”

“You should’ve.” He gently holds her wrist, taking the knife away. “Wouldn’t wanna hurt these pretty hands now, would we?” He takes the bottle to the edge of the counter and pops the cap off. She blushes at his nudity, completely unashamed about his bare state while standing in front of her. As she’s drinking, he spots the lipstick, and her nerves tingle when he clicks his tongue.

“You feeling okay?” he asks her, a finger trailing at her clavicle. 

She’s not sure if that’s an all-encompassing general question, or if he’s talking about the fact that she’s found another’s belongings. But he told her she’s different, didn’t he? Or is that the heady haze of sex again? 

She forces herself to brush it off. “Where are we?”

“Downtown.” His eyes narrow, analysing her in a manner that’s akin to a predator and its prey. “Something on your mind?” 

“You keep a lot of… _things_.”

He smiles. “You mean, the stuff I’m using for the remodelling?” 

“O-oh?” she stutters when he lifts her up, perching her on the kitchen island, his hips wedging between her legs. She supposes that makes some sense for the mess. He licks at the water droplets from the corners of her mouth. “Why’d you bring me here then?” 

He stops kissing her jaw, and there’s a quiet, smug exhale. “No reason. It was just closer.”

He’s inside her before she comprehends any of it, her mind becoming an unearthly, dark reverie where it’s just the two of them. It’s wickedly erotic, the way he can’t let her go, his hands urgent and dwarfing each of her tiny curves. When she tries to help him take off the shirt, he stops her. “Keep it on,” he grunts, his fingers tugging the top buttons apart so there’s sufficient access to her breasts. “You look so perfect in my clothes.”

And when he moans into her skin, her mind snaps black, but not before the gears finally connect the dots—

The place smells of bleach.

* * *

The thing about calamity, it sometimes begins from a snowball, growing from a small, trivial event into something far worse. And for Rey, it starts as a single message to Ben, finally acknowledging her dream is going beyond her control, unable to forget the apprehension that’s eating at her.

* * *

They say boy you know it's time to go  
You gotta give it up  
They say, they say, they say give it up

I'm an animal, you're an animal  
I'm an animal, you're an animal  
I'm an animal, you're an animal

**—Excerpt from "Animal" by MISSIO**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 🔪🍿 Annndddd...next chapter is solely Ben’s POV so we’ll get to dive into his headspace for a bit. Whew, I’m super excited and nervous for this task! 
> 
> Sources:  
> [Kaydel Ko Connix](http://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Kaydel_Ko_Connix)  
> [Phasma](http://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Phasma)  
> [Gial Ackbar](http://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Gial_Ackbar)  
> [American Psycho: Murders and Executions Nightclub Scene](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=z0zkZC4sVt8)


End file.
